o paise walo o paise walo kaisa tumhara
ye sansar hai o paise walo kaisa tumhara
ye sansar hai jhute ki jit yaha sache ki har hai
jhute ki jit yaha sache ki har hai
o paise walo kaisa tumhara
ye sansar hai o paise walo

bade bade bazar sazakar gali gali me dhol bazakar
sona dikhla pital dete ginke paise pure lete
dil ka sauda jaan ka sauda hota hai iman ka sauda
khun pasina bik jata hai maut aur jina bik jata hai
puchh raha hu tumse bolo kaisa ye byohar hai
o paise walo kaisa tumhara ye sansar hai
o paise walo

aansu le lo aahe le lo hasrat le lo chahe le lo
tambe ka ek tukda phenko tute dil ki duvaye le lo
gore gore gal hai bikte kale kale bal hai bikte
bike jawani bike bhudapa sab bikta hai agar ho paisa
lut chuke ho duniya sari is par bhi takrar hai
o paise walo kaisa tumhara ye sansar hai
o paise walo

sapno ki duniya ko chhodo asliyat se muh na modo
kab tak jhuti shan rahegi do din to ye jaan rahegi
taz samay ka bol raha hai raz ye sare khol raha hai
jo nirdhan hai jo beghar hai wo bita bita katwar hai
kath ki handiya jalke rahegi hota ye byohar hai
o paise walo kaisa tumhara ye sansar hai
o paise walo kaisa tumhara ye sansar hai
o paise walo

O, ye of wealth, what world is this you claim,
O, ye of wealth, what world is yours to name?
Where falsehood triumphs, and the truthful fall,
O, ye of wealth, within this gilded hall!

Great markets built, in every street a drum,
Displaying gold, while brass is what they come
To offer, counting coins with careful hand,
A trade of hearts, a trade across the land.
The soul itself, the truth, is all for sale,
Both life and death, beneath a mournful veil.
I ask of you, this commerce you embrace,
O, ye of wealth, what world, what time, what place?
O, ye of wealth!

Take tears, take sighs, take all the heart desires,
And toss a copper coin, for broken fires.
Fair cheeks are sold, and raven tresses too,
Youth, age, all traded, if your wealth sees through.
You’ve plundered all the world, still strife remains,
O, ye of wealth, what world and all its pains?
O, ye of wealth!

Leave dreams behind, and face the truth you hide,
How long will fleeting glory be your guide?
This mortal coil, a brief and fading light,
The aged crown now speaks, revealing sight.
The homeless, poor, the ones who know despair,
Are driftwood tossed, a burden they must bear.
The wooden pot will burn, the truth you'll find,
O, ye of wealth, what world for all mankind?
O, ye of wealth, what world is yours to claim?
O, ye of wealth!