jab aa hi gaye hai dar pe tere kuch kar ke yaha se jayenge
ya apni murade payenge ya marke yaha se jayenge
jab aa hi gaye hai dar pe tere

daulat ke nashe me chur hai tu insan se najre fer nahi
bhagwan ke ghar me der to hai nadan magar andher nahi
nadan magar andher nahi insaf ki chakki me ek din
insaf ki chakki me ek din sab log yaha pis jayenge
jab aa hi gaye hai dar pe tere kuch kar ke yaha se jayenge
ya apni murade payenge ya marke yaha se jayenge
jab aa hi gaye hai dar pe tere

dunia ke khazane tu hi bata wo kaun the jiske sath gaye
apni to najar me jo the wahi sab log hi khali hath gaye
sab log hi khali hath gaye tu lakh na samjhe fir bhi tujhe
tu lakh na samjhe fir bhi tujhe ye bat magar samjhayenge
jab aa hi gaye hai dar pe tere kuch kar ke yaha se jayenge
ya apni murade payenge ya marke yaha se jayenge
jab aa hi gaye hai dar pe tere

kab chain se jine dengi tujhe madlum garibo ki aahe
kab chain se jine dengi maglum madlum garibo ki aahe
kato me dhakelengi yahi tujhko teri hi balaye ye rahe
teri hi balaye ye rahe hum dard se to tadpenge
lekin tujhko bhi tadpayenge jab aa hi gaye hai dar pe tere
kuch kar ke yaha se jayenge ya apni murade payenge
ya marke yaha se jayenge jab aa hi gaye hai dar pe tere

Now that we've come to your door, we'll depart changed,
Either our desires fulfilled, or in death rearranged.
Now that we've come to your door.

Drunk on wealth, you turn from the human face,
In God's house, delay there may be, but injustice finds its place.
Injustice finds its place; in the mill of right's decree,
Someday, all will be ground here, you'll see.
Now that we've come to your door, we'll depart changed,
Either our desires fulfilled, or in death rearranged.
Now that we've come to your door.

Tell us, of the world's treasures, who carried them away?
In our view, all departed, empty on that day.
Empty on that day; though you may not comprehend,
This truth, we'll make you apprehend.
Now that we've come to your door, we'll depart changed,
Either our desires fulfilled, or in death rearranged.
Now that we've come to your door.

The sighs of the poor, oppressed, will they let you find peace?
The thorns you've sown, those very paths, will bring you no release.
Bring you no release; we'll writhe in pain, it's true,
But your suffering, too, we'll imbue.
Now that we've come to your door,
we'll depart changed,
Either our desires fulfilled, or in death rearranged.
Now that we've come to your door.