mai hu mister johny
maine sab mulko ka piya hai panee
saree duneeya ghum gham ke bana hu hindustanee

tum puchhoge kyon mai abhee batata hu
mai hu johny bada tufanee
mai hu johny bada tufanee
ek mulk kee suno kahanee milee vahan ik husn kee ranee
jab tak tha kaladar jeb me tab tak thee har bat suhanee
ik din bolee suno sanam mal hajam aur khel khatam
chalee gai woh mujhe chhod kar dekar thanda panee
mai hu mister johny

duje mulk gaya mai yar mil gai ik banki sarakar
khub hua pahale toh pyar bad me mujhako hua bukhar
ik din bolee johny yar ham jata tum hai bimar
sath kisee ke bhag gai wo dekar thanda panee
mai hu mister johny

tije mulk ka dekho pol mil gai madam talamatol
dekh ke usaka pyara mukhada mai toh huwa danvadol
choro kee vah sathee nikalee kar gai meraa bistar gol
sara maal udakar le gai dekar thanda panee
mai hu mister johny

johny hindustan me aaya dekhee champa dil lalachaya
jaake mila usakee amma se shadee ka paigam tikaya
ho gai shadee mil gai champa das bachchon ka bap kahaya
usaka sachcha pyar dekh kar ban gaya hu hindustani
dekar thanda panee mai hu mister johny

I am Mr. Johnny, a wanderer of lands,
Whose thirst has quenched in every nation's sands.
Across the world, my weary feet have trod,
Now, an Indian soul, embraced by God.

You ask the reason? Let the tale unfold,
Of Johnny, tempest-born, a story bold.
Oh, Johnny, tempest-born, a life so free,
A tale of love and loss, you’ll hear from me.

In one land, a queen, her beauty bright,
Her smile a sunbeam, banishing the night.
As long as wealth filled every pocket deep,
Her love was mine, my promises to keep.
One day she spoke, "My love, the game is done,
The fortune spent, the chase is now outrun."
She left me then, a heart both cold and bare,
And poured on me the chilling, bitter air.
I am Mr. Johnny.

To another land, a maiden fair and sly,
Whose heart and love, for one another, lie.
At first, a passion bloomed, a tender start,
But soon, a fever burned within my heart.
She said one day, "My Johnny, you are ill,"
And vanished then, her promise unfulfilled.
She fled with someone, leaving me behind,
And poured on me the chilling wind I find.
I am Mr. Johnny.

In a third land, a woman, evasive, cold,
Her words a labyrinth, her story untold.
Her face, a pretty mask, I loved it so,
My heart swayed, a flower, in the breeze's flow.
A thief she was, with cunning in her veins,
She emptied my coffers, leaving only pains.
She stole it all, and left me in despair,
And poured on me the chilling, bitter air.
I am Mr. Johnny.

Then, Johnny came to Hindustan, at last,
Where Champa bloomed, and held my heart so fast.
I met her mother, and the wedding bell,
To her, my heart, and soul, began to dwell.
The wedding happened, and Champa became mine,
And I became a father, to a family of nine.
Her true love shone, a beacon in the night,
And I became an Indian, bathed in her light.
She gave me warmth, my heart a brand new start,
And I'm Mr. Johnny, blessed by a loving heart.