shor hai gali gali
shor hai gali gali, main javan ho gayi
sochkar mose ankhiya milaiyao
main tikhi chhuri hu, kahi na kat jayiyo
na paas aaiyo, babuji hat jayiyo
shor hai gali gali, main javan ho gayi
sochkar mose ankhiya milaiyao
main tikhi chhuri hu, kahi na kat jayiyo
na paas aaiyo, babuji hat jayiyo

solah baras ki hu hay
solah baras ki hu aafat babu
mat karna meri chahat babu
meri najar hain bevafa
meri mohabbat me paoge kya
muft me jaan
muft me jaan apni ganviyo
main tikhi chhuri hu, kahi na kat jayiyo
shor hai gali gali, main javan ho gayi
sochkar mose ankhiya milaiyao
main tikhi chhuri hu, kahi na kat jayiyo
na paas aaiyo, babuji hat jayiyo

kar dega jadu hay
kar dega jadu jhumka mora
hosh uda dega tumka mora
gajra mera ghayal kare
kajra mera sabko pagal kare
tum jara hosh
tum jara hosh apne bachiyo
main tikhi chhuri hu, kahi na kat jayiyo
shor hai gali gali, main javan ho gayi
sochkar mose ankhiya milaiyao
main tikhi chhuri hu, kahi na kat jayiyo
na paas aaiyo, babuji hat jayiyo

shor hai gali gali, main javan ho gayi
sochkar mose ankhiya milaiyao
main tikhi chhuri hu, kahi na kat jayiyo
na paas aaiyo, babuji hat jayiyo

The clamor spills from every street,
a song of youth, a pulsing heat.
Think twice before your eyes meet mine,
a sharpened blade, a cutting sign.
Do not approach, old sir, beware,
the clamor spills from everywhere.
Think twice before your eyes meet mine,
a sharpened blade, a cutting sign.
Do not approach, old sir, beware.

Sixteen springs, a tempest's breath,
sixteen years, inviting death.
Do not desire my fleeting grace,
in love's embrace, you'll find no place.
My gaze betrays, a fickle art,
what gain in loving my young heart?
Your life, for naught, you'd throw away,
a sharpened blade, will surely slay.
The clamor spills from every street,
a song of youth, a pulsing heat.
Think twice before your eyes meet mine,
a sharpened blade, a cutting sign.
Do not approach, old sir, beware.

My earring's spell, a whispered charm,
will steal your senses, do you harm.
My dance will make your spirit reel,
my jasmine, wounds it will reveal.
My kohl-lined eyes, a maddening art,
beware the storm within my heart.
Hold fast your senses, lest they stray,
a sharpened blade, will surely slay.
The clamor spills from every street,
a song of youth, a pulsing heat.
Think twice before your eyes meet mine,
a sharpened blade, a cutting sign.
Do not approach, old sir, beware.

The clamor spills from every street,
a song of youth, a pulsing heat.
Think twice before your eyes meet mine,
a sharpened blade, a cutting sign.
Do not approach, old sir, beware.