hamari aah kab tak beasar hogi khuda jane
akele jindagi kaise basar hogi khuda jane
tadapte hai taraste hai magar kuch kah nahi sakte
jo halat jo idhar hai kab udhar hogi khuda jane

suni suni sajariya pe soya na jaye
suni suni sajariya pe soya na jaye
tumhare bina hame nindiya na aaye
tumhare bina hame nindiya na aaye
suni suni haye haye suni suni sajariya pe soya na jaye

ab to har sham ki is tarah sahar hoti hai
kan aahat me isharo pe najar hoti hai
ek khyal aata hai ek jata hai tanhayi me
karwate lete hue rat basar hoti hai
suni suni sajariya pe soya na jaye
suni suni sajariya pe soya na jaye
tumhare bina hame nindiya na aaye
tumhare bina hame nindiya na aaye
suni suni haye haye suni suni sajariya pe soya na jaye

roz aate ho magar aag lagane ke liye
dil me armano ke tufan uthane ke liye
tum to pathar ho bhala tumko khabar kya hogi
hum pareshan hai ye bat batane ke liye
suni suni sajariya pe soya na jaye
suni suni sajariya pe soya na jaye
tumhare bina hame nindiya na aaye
tumhare bina hame nindiya na aaye
suni suni haye haye suni suni sajariya pe soya na jaye

When will our sighs find purchase in the divine?
How will this lone life ever truly align?
We yearn, we thirst, yet silent still we stay,
The turning of our state, whose hand will design?

On desolate branches, sleep eludes my hold,
On desolate branches, a story to be told.
Without your presence, slumber flees my eyes,
Without your warmth, my nights grow bleak and cold.
On desolate branches, sleep eludes my hold.

Each dusk now dawns, a mirror to the ache,
Each rustle whispers, signals my heart to break.
One thought descends, a solace in the night,
As through the hours, in restless turns I wake.
On desolate branches, sleep eludes my hold,
On desolate branches, a story to be told.
Without your presence, slumber flees my eyes,
Without your warmth, my nights grow bleak and cold.
On desolate branches, sleep eludes my hold.

You come each day, a fire in the core,
To stir the storms within, and ask for more.
You, a stone, know nothing of this plight,
To share my anguish, is all I implore.
On desolate branches, sleep eludes my hold,
On desolate branches, a story to be told.
Without your presence, slumber flees my eyes,
Without your warmth, my nights grow bleak and cold.
On desolate branches, sleep eludes my hold.