suno re suno re suno re,
andhee praja andha raaja,
chakat re baajee chakat re baaja,
chakat re janata chakat re neta.
ham to mar gae,
haay jamaana theat tere kee
jamaana theat tere kee
andhee praja andha raaja,
chakat re baajee chakat re baaja,
chakat re janata chakat re neta.
ham to mar gae,
haay jamaana theat tere kee
jamaana theat tere kee.


desh ko kaha gayee neta jee,
khet ko kaha gaya sookha,
are khet ko kaha gaya sookha.
desh ko kaha gayee neta jee,
khet ko kaha gaya sookha,
are khet ko kaha gaya sookha.
are dharm ko kaha gae pandat
mulla karm ho gaya bhoosa,
karm ho gaya bhoosa.
he kaue khae ka bhaiya
are kaue khae doodh malaee,
hans mar gaya bhookha,
haay jamaana theat tere kee
jamaana theat tere kee.



he raam raaj ke ghaat pe ab to
rah gae keval jhande,
are rah keval jhande,
he raam raaj ke ghaat pe ab to
rah gae keval jhande,
are rah keval jhande.
are jhande ko bhee lekar
bhaiya chale sadak pe dande,
chale sadak pe dande,
are kaun desh ka dhyaan kare,
kya baat hain,
kaun desh ka dhyaan kare,
sab hain kursee ke,
kya sab hain kursee ke phand
jamaana theat tere kee
jamaana theat tere kee.



oh oh ho ho
thar thar maaree phire
sachaee banakar yahaan bhikhaaree,
are sachaee banakar yahaan bhikhaaree,
oh oh ho ho
thar thar maaree phire
sachaee banakar yahaan bhikhaaree,
are sachaee banakar yahaan bhikhaaree
are raaj kare mahalo mein bethee
dagga baaj makaaree,
dagga baaj makaaree.
he jitane daphtar badhe desh mein,
jitane daphtar badhe desh mein,
utanee banee beemaaree,
haay haay,utanee banee beemaaree,
jamaana theat tere kee
jamaana theat tere kee.
are andhee praja andhe raaja
chakat re baajee chakat re baaja,
chakat re janata chakat re neta.
ham to mar gae,
haay jamaana theat tere kee
jamaana theat tere kee.



das das saal jo teks nahin de,
vo ban jaaye leedar,
are,vo ban jaaye leedar.
das das saal jo teks nahin de,
vo ban jaaye leedar,
are,vo ban jaaye leedar.
are khoon paseena ek kare jo,
vo hojaye phateechar,
vo hojaye phateechar.
kaun akal kee baat kare,
kaun akal kee baat kare.
bahee sab par chada saneechar bhee
haay jamaana theat tere kee
jamaana theat tere kee.


taak mein tha vo kya
taak mein tha vo,
nijee bhaiyya subah bana kaangresee
are subah bana kaangresee.
are raat mein tha vo kaangresee bhaiyya,
subah bana kaangresee,
subah bana kaangresee.
dal badaloo ne nit kee
kar dee aisee kee tesee,
kar dee aisee kee tesee.
he jisakee laathee bhes usee kee,
jisakee laathee bhes usee kee
kya hain demokresee,
haay jamaana theat tere kee
jamaana theat tere kee.
haay jamaana theat tere kee
jamaana theat tere kee.
he he he he
hava chalee pashchim kee aisee,
kala uhee bedhangee,
are kala uhee bedhangee,
hava chalee pashchim kee aisee,
kala uhee bedhangee,
are kala uhee bedhangee.
are angrejee ka raag
aala pe hindee geeta rakhee,
hindee geeta rakhee,
aajaadee ke baal savaare
ka bhaiya are aajaadee ke baal savaare.
haay kardegee kangee
haay jamaana theat tere kee
jamaana theat tere kee.
andhee praja andha raaja,
chakat re baajee chakat re baaja,
chakat re janata chakat re neta.
ham to mar gae,
haay jamaana theat tere kee
jamaana theat tere kee.

Hark, a cry unheard, a lament unbound,
Blind the folk, and blind the king is crowned.
Wonders cease, and music's vibrant art,
Fades to silence, tearing at the heart.
The people dazed, the leaders lost their way,
We are as dead, in this decaying day.
Alas, this age, its venom starts to sting,
This age, its venom, on the soul does cling.

Blind the folk, and blind the king's command,
Wonders cease, across a barren land.
The people dazed, the leaders lost their way,
We are as dead, in this decaying day.
Alas, this age, its venom starts to sting,
This age, its venom, on the soul does cling.

Where have the leaders gone, across the tide?
Where is the harvest? Fields where crops once died.
Where have the leaders gone, into the night?
Where is the harvest? Fields consumed by blight.
Where are the priests, the holy men of yore?
Their faith is dust, their scriptures are no more.
The crows feast now, on milk and sweetened cream,
While swans starve, lost within a fevered dream.
Alas, this age, its venom starts to sting,
This age, its venom, on the soul does cling.

Upon the sacred ghats, the flags remain,
Mere symbols waving in a world of pain.
Upon the sacred ghats, the flags now stand,
Mere symbols waving in a desolate land.
And even flags, are borne on sticks of might,
As they march onward, into endless night.
Who cares for the nation, in this darkened hour?
When all are chasing power, with cruelest power.
Alas, this age, its venom starts to sting,
This age, its venom, on the soul does cling.

Oh, oh, the truth, a beggar in the street,
Trembles and shivers, from the bitter heat.
Oh, oh, the truth, a beggar in the street,
Trembles and shivers, from the bitter heat.
While in the palaces, deceitful ones hold sway,
Deceitful ones command, in cruelest way.
The more the offices, the more disease takes hold,
The more the sickness, stories to be told.
Alas, this age, its venom starts to sting,
Blind the folk, and blind the king's command,
Wonders cease, across a barren land.
The people dazed, the leaders lost their way,
We are as dead, in this decaying day.
Alas, this age, its venom starts to sting,
This age, its venom, on the soul does cling.

Those who evade taxes, year by passing year,
Become the leaders, banishing all fear.
Those who evade taxes, in the darkest night,
Become the leaders, in the fading light.
While those who toil, in sweat and weary strain,
Are left as paupers, lost in endless pain.
Who speaks of wisdom, in this haunted space?
When all are cursed, by time's relentless pace.
Alas, this age, its venom starts to sting,
This age, its venom, on the soul does cling.

He, who was watching, now a game he plays,
A Congress man, with each dawn’s rising rays.
He, who was watching, in the shadows deep,
A Congress man, while the nation sleeps.
The turncoats shift, their loyalty undone,
Their treachery, beneath the setting sun.
Whose power reigns, with iron, ruthless hand?
Is this the freedom, of this promised land?
Alas, this age, its venom starts to sting,
This age, its venom, on the soul does cling.

He, he, he,
The western wind, a tempest in its wake,
A crooked art, for goodness sake!
The western wind, its rage begins to soar,
A crooked art, forevermore!
The English tongue, a song upon the air,
While Hindi's sacred verses, we must bear.
On freedom's head, the comb of time does fall,
And tears the strands, embracing one and all.
Alas, this age, its venom starts to sting,
This age, its venom, on the soul does cling.
Blind the folk, and blind the king's command,
Wonders cease, across a barren land.
The people dazed, the leaders lost their way,
We are as dead, in this decaying day.
Alas, this age, its venom starts to sting,
This age, its venom, on the soul does cling.