sar par lamba top leke ayega
choch jaisi nak pe khujayega
tera dulha dulha dulha
hogi thu thu sare gaw me gaw me
bhaish jaisi tond leke aayengi
tak tak bahangi aankh se sharmayegi
teri dulhan dulhan dulhan
baitha royega ber ki chaw me chaw me

sun o kajal wali tu payegi koi mawalli
choti ke bal pakad ke har bat pe dega gali
sun o kajal wali tu payegi koi mawalli
choti ke bal pakad ke har bat pe dega gali
o sun o julfo wali tu payega dulhan kali
jab manega bhaji puri maregi sar pe thali
sar par lamba top leke ayega
bhaish jaisi tond leke aayengi
teri dulhan tera dulha
hogi thu thu sare gaw me gaw me

sun o julfo wale jab aayegi teri patandar
gali ke bache dar kar
chup jayenge ghar ke andar
sun o julfo wale jab aayegi teri patandar
jab gali ke bache dar kar
chup jayenge ghar ke andar
sun o kajal wali jab ayega tera achandar
kauwe gayenge sehra or nach karenge bandar
bhaish jaisi tond leke aayengi
sar par lamba top leke ayega
tera dulha teri dulhan
baitha royega ber ki chaw me chaw me

sun o kajal wali tujhe milega bukha nanga
ayega barati bankar har juti chor lafanga
sun o kajal wali tujhe milega bukha nanga
ayega barati bankar har juti chor lafanga
o sun julfo wale tera sasura hai bhikh manga
mangega dulhan ke paise
o uspe karega changa
sar par lamba top leke ayega
bhaish jaisi tond leke aayengi
teri dulhan tera dulha
hogi thu thu sare gaw me gaw me

He comes, a cannon atop his head,
Scratching his beak-like nose, instead.
Your groom, your groom, your groom,
Scorn's spit upon the village bloom.

She comes, a buffalo's swollen form,
Shyly, her cross-eyed gaze a storm.
Your bride, your bride, your bride,
He'll weep beneath the berried side.

Listen, kohl-eyed one, you'll find a brute,
Who'll curse and pull your braid to boot.
Listen, kohl-eyed one, you'll find a brute,
Who'll curse and pull your braid to boot.
Listen, tressed one, your bride will be a fright,
Who'll strike your head with plates in the night.
He came, a cannon atop his head,
Scratching his beak-like nose, instead.
Your groom, your groom, your groom,
Scorn's spit upon the village bloom.

Listen, tressed one, when your in-laws arrive,
The street's children will cower and strive,
To hide in fear from their awful plight.
Listen, tressed one, when your in-laws arrive,
The street's children will cower and strive,
To hide in fear from their awful plight.
Listen, kohl-eyed one, your spouse's kin will roam,
Crows will sing the wedding song, monkeys make their home.
She comes, a buffalo's swollen form,
He comes, a cannon atop his head,
Your groom, your bride, your own,
He'll weep beneath the berried side.

Listen, kohl-eyed one, you'll wed a starving wretch,
A wedding guest of thieves, a wretched sketch.
Listen, kohl-eyed one, you'll wed a starving wretch,
A wedding guest of thieves, a wretched sketch.
Listen, tressed one, your in-laws beg for bread,
They'll haggle for your dowry instead.
He comes, a cannon atop his head,
She comes, a buffalo's swollen form,
Your bride, your groom, your own,
Scorn's spit upon the village bloom.