churi ban, kanta ban o my son
sab kuch ban kisi ka chamcha nahi ban
churi ban, kanta ban o my son
sab kuch ban kisi k chamcha nahi ban
churi ban, kanta ban o my son

vo chahe to bin mange hi deve phad ke chhapad
vo chahe khinch ke mare tere muh pe thapad
vo chahe to bin mange hi deve phad ke chhapad
vo chahe khench ke maare tere muh pe thapad
is duniya ke piche tu diwana nahi ban
is duniya ke piche tu diwana nahi ban
churi ban, kanta ban o my son
sab kuch ban kisi ka chamcha nahi ban
churi ban, kanta ban o my son

jo bhikhmanga in sadkon pe aaj bajaye baja
o diwane tu kya jaane kal hoga vo raja
jo bhikhmanga in sadkon pe aaj bajaye baja
o diwane tu kya jaane kal hoga vo raja
ek din vo tere samne gumega ban than
ek din vo tere samne gumega ban than
churi ban kanta ban o my son
sab kuch ban kisi ka chamcha nahi ban
aalu ban shora ban o my son
sab kuch ban kisi ka chamcha nahi ban
churi ban kanta ban o my son

Be the blade, be the thorn, oh my son,
Become all things, but no one's lackey, none.
Be the blade, be the thorn, oh my son,
Become all things, but no one's lackey, none.
Be the blade, be the thorn, oh my son.

He may shower blessings, unasked, a generous flood,
Or slap you hard, in fury understood.
He may shower blessings, unasked, a generous flood,
Or slap you hard, in fury understood.
Don't be a madman, chasing this world's gleam,
Don't be a madman, lost in a fleeting dream.
Be the blade, be the thorn, oh my son,
Become all things, but no one's lackey, none.
Be the blade, be the thorn, oh my son.

The beggar playing music on these very streets,
Oh, mad one, who knows what tomorrow greets?
The beggar playing music on these very streets,
Oh, mad one, who knows what tomorrow greets?
One day he'll strut before you, proud and grand,
One day he'll strut before you, in this shifting sand.
Be the blade, be the thorn, oh my son,
Become all things, but no one's lackey, none.
Be the potato, be the salt, oh my son,
Become all things, but no one's lackey, none.
Be the blade, be the thorn, oh my son.