skya hasino ka dil nahi hota, kya hasino ko pyar nahi hota
ye jhuth har sarasar banawat banawat
ye bhi hote hai ishk ke bimar
kya hasino ka dil nahi hota, kya hasino ko pyar nahi hota
ye jhuth har sarasar banawat banawat
ye bhi hote hai ishq ke bimar

dhadkata hai dil machalta hai dil
ye fir bhi na muh se mane
ye dekhe udhar ishara idhar hum inki najar pahchane
kya bekarar ye nahi hote, kya chup chup ye nahi hote
ye jhuth har sarasar banawat banawat
ye bhi hote hai ishq ke bimar
kya hasino ka dil nahi hota, kya hasino ko pyar nahi hota
ye jhuth har sarasar banawat banawat
ye bhi hote hai ishq ke bimar

jane bhi do ye juthi akad ab hamko apna bana lo
aji mudke jara aji badhke jara pyar se hath milalo
kya tumse kasur nahi hota, kya dil majbur nahi hota
ye jhuth har sarasar banawat banawat
ye bhi hote hai ishq ke bimar
kya hasino ka dil nahi hota, kya hasino ko pyar nahi hota
ye jhuth hai sarasar banawat banawat
ye bhi hote hai ishq ke bimar

Do hearts not beat in beauty's breast?
Does love not bloom within their chest?
A fabricated lie, a crafted guise,
They too are wounded by love's sighs.
They too are sick with love's disease.

The heart does pound, the heart does yearn,
Yet pride forbids the truth to burn.
They glance, we see the silent plea,
Their hidden longing, plain to see.
Do they not ache? Do tears not fall?
A fabricated lie, encompassing all.
They too are sick with love's disease.

Let go of pride, this hollow shell,
Embrace us now, cast off the spell.
Turn, meet our gaze, with open hand,
And offer love across the land.
Do they not err? Is the heart not bound?
A fabricated lie, profound.
They too are sick with love's disease.