kaamzor hukumat paisa rupaiya
kuch bhi kam na aaye
tan me man ki been baje to
kam safal ho jaye

chahe koi zor laga le chahe koi zor laga le
tal bina betal hai jiwan kam na banne wale
chahe koi zor laga le chahe koi zor laga le
tal bina betal hai jiwan kam na banne wale
chahe koi zor lagale

sat suro ke sato raja josh me jis waqt aaye
pathar pe bagiya lahrade mahal khade ho jaye
baje nagada himmat aaye kam kare dilwale
chahe koi jor laga le chahe koi zor lagale
tal bina betal hai jiwan kam na banne wale
chahe koi zor laga le

majduro ne taj banaya mehnat ke gun gaye
khun pasina ek kare hum pul nadiyo pe banaye
hath hamare chalti mashine kabhi na rukne wale
chahe koi jor laga le chahe koi zor lagale
tal bina betal hai jiwan kam na banne wale
chahe koi zor laga le

sun ke jigar ko jage sipahi maidan me ban than aaye
neele gagan par gad de jhanda gairo ko piche hataye
tal ki masti aisi masti chalte hai fauj rasale
chahe koi zor laga le chahe koi zor lagale
tal bina betal hai jiwan kam na banne wale
chahe koi zor laga le

Weak rule, the currency of coin,
Worthless, a fleeting show.
When the heart's lute sings,
Then, only then, blossoms will grow.

Though power may strain, may strive,
Life without rhythm, a discord's blight.
No symphony, no harmony,
Until the dance takes flight.
Though power may strain, may strive.

Seven kings of sound ignite,
With passion's fiery art,
Gardens bloom on barren stone,
Palaces rise from the heart.
Drums of courage, a warrior's beat,
Hearts ablaze, they will not part.
Though power may strain, may strive,
Life without rhythm, a discord's blight.
No symphony, no harmony,
Until the dance takes flight.
Though power may strain.

Laborers crowned the king,
Their sweat, the song they sing.
Blood and toil, a single stream,
Bridges built, a waking dream.
Hands of steel, the engines roar,
Forever onward, evermore.
Though power may strain, may strive,
Life without rhythm, a discord's blight.
No symphony, no harmony,
Until the dance takes flight.
Though power may strain.

Upon the chest, a rising call,
Soldiers march, embracing all,
They raise the flag to the azure height,
And cast their foes into the night.
Such is the joy of the rhythm's sway,
The marching legions light the way.
Though power may strain, may strive,
Life without rhythm, a discord's blight.
No symphony, no harmony,
Until the dance takes flight.
Though power may strain.