samay to chalta aage ke kauwa moti chabe
ke hans akela bhage kyu bhala
jo bhi the tilak ke dhari
aaj wo chale hai bhari pav ko badha
kya hua haye samay to chalta aage
ke kauwa moti chabe
ke hans akela bhage kyu bhala

aankh me to aag bhari hai aisa kuch hua hai
kar sake magar kuch nahi ye jo wachan diya hai
haye re haye re choda re choda re
kya ise karam bole ya ret ya gadam bole ya
bole kya bhala kya bhala samay to chalta aage
ke kauwa moti chabe
ke hans akela bhage kyu bhala

jo bhi the narak ke bhagi swarg wo chale hai
wo to bole kalyug hai ji hum to chup khade hai
haye re haye re choda re choda re
jane kaisi saaj hui hai laaj haye haaj hui hai
dekh to bhala kyu bhala are kya bhul hui hai

sharam sab dhul hui hai
bharam sab gaur se puche to bata
kya ise karam bole ya ret ya gadam bole ya
bole kya bhala kya bhala samay to chalta aage
ke kauwa moti chabe
ke hans akela bhage kyu bhala

Time marches, onward, heedless, as the crow devours pearls,
And the lone swan flees, why, oh why, does it unfurl?
Those once adorned with sacred marks,
Now falter forth, burdened by the dark.
What has befallen? Time marches onward, true,
As the crow devours pearls, anew.
And the lone swan flees, why, oh why, do we eschew?

Fire in the eyes, a blaze ignited, a deed undone,
Yet powerless to act, a promise, the battle not won.
Alas, alas, forsaken, abandoned and lost,
Is this destiny's hand, or shifting sand, at what cost?
Or perhaps, a void, a silent frost?
Oh, what is to be, what is to be? Time marches onward, across
As the crow devours pearls, across
And the lone swan flees, why, oh why, is this the cross?

Those destined for hell, now ascend to heaven's grace,
They cry, "This is the age of Kali," while we stand in this place.
Alas, alas, forsaken, abandoned and cast,
A symphony of shadows, a shame that will last.
Look closely, reflect, what error, what folly amassed?

All shame now dust, a fading hue,
Delusions crumble, if asked, what is true?
Is this destiny's hand, or shifting sand, at what cost?
Or perhaps, a void, a silent frost?
Oh, what is to be, what is to be? Time marches onward, imposed,
As the crow devours pearls, bestowed,
And the lone swan flees, why, oh why, is life composed?