mori gagri naa bharan det re
mori gagri naa bharan det re
kya huwa gao naa, nahi aaj mood nahi hain
mood nahi hain, are riyaj nahi karna hain kya
gana mere bas ki bat nahi to phir yahi gao
gana mere bas ki bat nahi
gana mere bas ki bat nahi sur aur tal kaa sath nahi
sur aur tal kaa sath nahi, gana mere bas ki bat nahi

koyal koi hare samundar me suro ko dhundhe kuh kuh kehke
pawan bana baadal ghumta paas ke van me
saans me saans nisa sa tan man se nikle
megh megha ke ki soch me baadal garaje bijli cham ke
bundo ki bochhar bachaye chat pe aisa taar
tan badan me solva savan cha jaaye
gana mere bas ki bat nahi, gana mere bas ki bat nahi
sur aur tal kaa sath nahi, sur aur tal kaa sath nahi
gana mere bas ki bat nahi

rail bat ke patri pe natkhat jamuna ke tat radha
lakh bajaye sithi peka pi aadha bhairav adha
sandhya chanke gale mai goke subah chanane mandir mai
shehar mai charo taraf bhid ke gorakh kaa chanta baje
itna sara brindgan ho ird gird mai kyun gaav
apni apni jagah khile woh sur tod ke kyo lau
sur tod ke kyo lau, sur tod ke kyo lau
gana mere bas ki bat nahi, gana mere bas ki bat nahi
sur aur tal kaa sath nahi, sur aur tal kaa sath nahi
gana mere bas ki bat nahi, gana mere bas ki bat nahi
mori gagri naa bharan det re
mori gagri naa bharan det re


lyrics typed by: neha gupta

My pitcher, it won't let me fill, no,
My pitcher, it won't let me fill.
What happened, sing! No, not in the mood today.
Not in the mood? Won't you practice your craft?
Singing isn't for me, then sing this.
Singing isn't for me.
Singing isn't for me, no harmony, no rhythm.
No harmony, no rhythm. Singing isn't for me.

A cuckoo searches the emerald sea for notes, cooing,
The wind becomes a cloud, wandering the nearby forest.
Breath in breath, Ni Sa Sa from body and mind emerges.
Clouds thunder, lightning flashes in the thought of the Megh, the rain.
A downpour saves, like a wire on the roof.
The sixteenth monsoon embraces body and soul.
Singing isn't for me, singing isn't for me.
No harmony, no rhythm, no harmony, no rhythm.
Singing isn't for me.

The train splits the track, a naughty Jamuna's shore, Radha.
Millions save, the city's drunk, half Bhairav, half.
Evening filtered through the throat, morning filtered in the temple.
The city, all around, the crowd, Gorakh's slap strikes.
So much Vrindavan, all around why sing?
They bloom in their own place, why should I shatter the note?
Why should I shatter the note? Why should I shatter the note?
Singing isn't for me, singing isn't for me.
No harmony, no rhythm, no harmony, no rhythm.
Singing isn't for me, singing isn't for me.
My pitcher, it won't let me fill, no,
My pitcher, it won't let me fill.