sun o ghanchakkar babu tere chakkar hai bekabu
hua bheja tal ke sabudana re
karta apne man ki bhukh badi hai dhan ki
sabne tujhko sanki mana re
o lutiya khatiya o lambi continuos thukam patti

oye ghanchakkar sunle chalke swetar bun le
shakkar badle gud le jana re
sarkito ki matki chhat pe ulti latki
taal pe maare chutki saala re
lafda jhagda sumdi continuos jholam patti

hey waah re waah waah re waah
tujhme bhar ke ye shaitani buddhi
tauba kahke shaitano ne bhi karva li nasbandi
tujhko kya pakdega aliya taaro ka koi thane ka
tune kar di hai fbi ki bhi mittargandhi
bank ho ya ho loker baap ka tere naukar
khada hai khula hokar aana re
mantar tere hatke sur se thoda bhatke
aaya hai jo rat ke gaanaa re
o tabla tunga o tungi continuos thukam patti

ye shana hai shana hai
udti chidiyo ke par gin leta hai
a aa i ee ke badle isne sikha alfa thita
sabke kolar pe bhaiya iljamo ka kichad uchhla
iske muh pe na aaya galti se bhi single chhita
baat hai ye andar ki sajish ke daftar ki
daal hai murgi ghar ki khana re
lakh judai fadki chahat utni bhadki
dur bhagaye tharki aana re
o chhamiya amiya o guthli continuos jholam patti

Listen, O whirlwind, your whirlings are untamed,
Your mind's been scrubbed with soap of tapioca grain.
You chase your desires, hunger for riches vast,
They call you madman, built to never last.
Oh, the broken pot, the bed, the endless spit-soaked sheet.

Hey, whirlwind, hear me, weave a sweater with care,
Trade sugar for jaggery, a sweeter affair.
The circuit's pitcher, upside down on the roof,
Flicks a finger, a note, a sardonic proof.
Oh, the quarrel, the fight, the endless trouble's sheet.

Hey, wow, wow, wow!
Filled with such devilish, scheming mind,
Even demons, in shame, had to bind.
What can arrest you, of stars or of law?
You've made the FBI a stinking maw.
Bank or locker, your father's servant stood,
Open and ready, misunderstood.
A mantra you have, off-key, a little astray,
That you stumble and repeat every day.
Oh, the tabla drum, the drum, the endless spit-soaked sheet.

This clever one, this clever one,
Counts the feathers of the flying bird,
And teaches alpha and theta, where A, B, C should be heard.
He splatters accusations on everyone's collar,
But not a single fleck on his own face did falter.
This is a conspiracy of a hidden place,
Chicken curry, the dish, a dining disgrace.
A million separations, desires burn so bright,
Scaring away the lecher, fleeing from the light.
Oh, the dancer, the mango, the endless trouble's sheet.