behla do, phusla do, balon ko sehla do hum chup ho jayenge
arey hum to bacche hai, thode se kacche hai hum chup ho jayenge
pal mein machle hai, pal mein sambhle hai
na jane kyu sab ko lagta hai yehi
baccho ka dard koi dard hi nahi

chane ke jhad pe chadha ke utar do hum chup ho jayenge
arey hum to bacche hai
thode se kacche hai hum chup ho jayenge

bas dhyan bata do, aeroplane dikha do hum chup ho jayenge
jab chot lagey to bas kuch karo hum chup ho jayenge
table se takraye to table ko phatkar do hum chup ho jayenge
arey hum to bacche hai
thode se kacche hai hum chup ho jayenge
pal mein machle hai, pal mein sambhle hai
na jane kyu sab ko lagta hai yehi
baccho ka dard koi dard hi nahi, nahi, nahi, nahi ye

dilasa dila do, ice cream khila do hum chup ho jayenge
jab ankh bhar aaye to godi mein tehla do hum chup ho jayenge
sher bhi kabhi rote hain
keh ke palla jhad lo hum chup ho jayenge
arey hum to bacche hai
thode se kacche hai hum chup ho jayenge
pal mein machle hai, pal mein sambhle hai
na jane kyu sab ko lagta hai yehi
baccho ka dard koi dard hi nahi, nahi, nahi, nahi ye

Stroke their hair, soothe them with a whisper, we will fall silent.
We are but children, tender and green, we will fall silent.
Roused in a moment, composed in a breath,
Why does it seem, to everyone, always,
That a child's pain is no pain at all?
Lift us high, then cast us down, we will fall silent.
We are but children,
Tender and green, we will fall silent.

Distract us, show us a soaring plane, we will fall silent.
When hurt, just do something, anything, we will fall silent.
If the table is the culprit, scold the wood, we will fall silent.
We are but children,
Tender and green, we will fall silent.
Roused in a moment, composed in a breath,
Why does it seem, to everyone, always,
That a child's pain is no pain at all, no, no, no, no?

Comfort them, give them ice cream, we will fall silent.
If tears well up, cradle them close, we will fall silent.
Even lions weep sometimes,
Say that and brush us aside, we will fall silent.
We are but children,
Tender and green, we will fall silent.
Roused in a moment, composed in a breath,
Why does it seem, to everyone, always,
That a child's pain is no pain at all, no, no, no, no?