naukari sau ki hajaar ki kimat nahi hoti pyar ki
naukari sau ki hajaar ki kimat nahi hoti pyar ki
pyar anamol hai, ik mitha bol hai
mithi mithi baate yaar ki
naukari sau ki hajaar ki kimat nahi hoti pyar ki
pyar anamol hai, ik mitha bol hai
mithi mithi baate yaar ki, naukari sau ki hajaar ki

mushkil raaho se aksar, bachakar log nikalte hai
mushkil raaho se aksar, bachakar log nikalte hai
phulo ke jo aashik hai, wo kaanto pe chalate hai
chhod ke galiya bahaar ki
naukari sau ki hajaar ki kimat nahi hoti pyar ki
pyar anamol hai, ik mitha bol hai
mithi mithi baate yaar ki, ho naukari sau ki hajaar ki

pyar nahi karta koi daulat ke deewaano me
pyar nahi karta koi daulat ke deewaano me
wo kya jaane fark hai kya, dil me aur dukano me
dil amaanat dildaar ki, naukari sau ki hajaar ki

barsegi banke ghata ye apni jo pyas hai
ye apni jo pyas hai
ham jaage jiske liye ab wo subah paas hai
wo subah paas hai
raat beeti intzaar ki
naukari sau ki hajaar ki kimat nahi hoti pyar ki
pyar anamol hai, ik mitha bol hai
mithi mithi baate yaar ki, naukari sau ki hajaar ki

A hundred jobs, a thousand wages, cannot price the love we crave.
A hundred jobs, a thousand wages, cannot price the love we crave.
Love is priceless, a sweet refrain,
the tender words of lovers, gently laid.
A hundred jobs, a thousand wages, cannot price the love we crave.
Love is priceless, a sweet refrain,
the tender words of lovers, gently laid, a hundred jobs.

From treacherous paths, most often, people turn away,
From treacherous paths, most often, people turn away.
But those who love the bloom, on thorns will choose to stay,
leaving behind the streets of spring's array.
A hundred jobs, a thousand wages, cannot price the love we crave.
Love is priceless, a sweet refrain,
the tender words of lovers, gently laid, oh, a hundred jobs.

Love knows no kinship with the worshippers of gold,
Love knows no kinship with the worshippers of gold.
What can they know of hearts, and the wares they hold?
The heart, a trust, the beloved's fold, a hundred jobs.

Our thirst, a storm, will break and finally pour,
our thirst that burns and calls.
We are awake, for her, the dawn is at the door,
the dawn is near, before us all.
The night of waiting is now at its core.
A hundred jobs, a thousand wages, cannot price the love we crave.
Love is priceless, a sweet refrain,
the tender words of lovers, gently laid, oh, a hundred jobs.