jiska palla bhari dekhe chale usi ki chal
are kaan khol ke sunlo bhaiya is dunia ka haal
nirdhan ka na koi leta naam
nirdhan ka na koi leta naam
or paisa ho to ram ram
kalyug hai isi ka naam
ji ha re ha re ji ha re

roz udaye dudh mali da nakara insaa
bate kar kar ke mar jaye
bade bade gunwan
maya ke ye lobhi sab hai
paise ko bhagwan
paise ko bhagwan
are apna to aisi dunia ko
apna to aisi dunia ko
dur se hi ram ram
nirdhan ka na koi leta naam
nirdhan ka na koi leta naam
or paisa ho to ram ram
kalyug hai isi ka naam
ji ha re ha re ji ha re

matlab jispe aan pade le uske hatho hath
sab uski parchhai bankar sath rahe din raat
sath rahe din raat
sath rahe din raat
matlab nikle to phir bhaiya koi na puche baat
koi na puche baat
kagaz ke ye phul hai inme
kagaz ke ye phul hai inme khusbu ka kya kaam
nirdhan ka na koi leta naam
nirdhan ka na koi leta naam
or paisa ho to ram ram
kalyug hai isi ka naam
ji ha re ha re ji ha re

Whose pockets swell, their dance we ape,
Hearken close, this world's grim shape.
The poor, their names unheard, unknown,
The poor, their names unheard, unknown,
But wealth, a whispered, "Hail, Ram, alone!"
This age of iron, its seeds are sown.
Yes, oh yes, oh yes, it's true.

Milk and cream, the idle feast,
Words their weapon, life deceased,
Great of virtue, tales they tell,
But Maya's greed holds them in hell,
Money, their god, a gilded cell,
Money, their god, a gilded cell.
This world, so hollow, so bereft,
This world, so hollow, so bereft,
From afar, we bid farewell,
The poor, their names unheard, unknown,
The poor, their names unheard, unknown,
But wealth, a whispered, "Hail, Ram, alone!"
This age of iron, its seeds are sown.
Yes, oh yes, oh yes, it's true.

When need descends, they'll offer aid,
Shadows clinging, unafraid,
Day and night, a loyal band,
Day and night, a loyal band.
But when the purpose finds its end,
No questions asked, no helping hand.
Paper blooms, a fragile art,
Paper blooms, a fragile art,
Where fragrance sleeps, a broken heart,
The poor, their names unheard, unknown,
The poor, their names unheard, unknown,
But wealth, a whispered, "Hail, Ram, alone!"
This age of iron, its seeds are sown.
Yes, oh yes, oh yes, it's true.