bam chik bam chik bam bam, paise bina duniya bedang
bam chik bam chik bam bam, paise bina duniya bedang
tere dawar khade hai jogi, tere dawar khade hai jogi
na mange hira moti bas, chahe ina mina dika
tere dawar khade hai jogi, tere dawar khade hai jogi
na mange hira moti bas, chahe ina mina dika
tere dawar khade hai jogi, tere dawar khade hai jogi

khaye bade jhatke gali gali bhatke, pavo me pade chhale, chhale
yaha waha chalke dhup me jalke, rang huye kale, kale
aaye nazar na na na na na
koi bhi rasat rasta rasta, aaye nazar na
koi bhi rasat hal huya khasta, unke bina lagta hai chhoka
rang bhi humko fika
tere dawar khade hai jogi, tere dawar khade hai jogi
tere dawar khade hai jogi, tere dawar khade hai jogi
tere dawar khade hai jogi, tere dawar khade hai jogi

mai khadi hu kabse hai dua ye rabse
mal wala koi aaye raste ke ladke
mai badi hu kadki sath mujhe leke jaye
desh bigana mile na thikana
hath ke rah dikha dikha dikha, mal bhi layege byah rachayege
koi jatan to bata, bata, unko dhundne jayege hum
rusiya chin amerika
tere dawar khade hai jogi, tere dawar khade hai jogi
na mange hira moti bas, chahe ina mina dika
tere dawar khade hai jogi, tere dawar khade hai jogi

The world, a discordant drum, without coin's chime,
The world, a discordant drum, without coin's chime.
At your threshold, the wandering ascetics stand,
At your threshold, the wandering ascetics stand.
Not for gems or jewels, their hearts entreat,
Only for Ina Meena Deeka, a humble plea.
At your threshold, the wandering ascetics stand,
At your threshold, the wandering ascetics stand.

Through streets they stumble, battered and bruised,
Blisters bloom on feet, deeply infused.
Sun-scorched skin, a darkening hue,
Nowhere to be found, not a single clue.
No path to be seen, no way to mend,
Without them, the world, it seems to end.
The colors fade, a muted scene.
At your threshold, the wandering ascetics stand,
At your threshold, the wandering ascetics stand,
At your threshold, the wandering ascetics stand,
At your threshold, the wandering ascetics stand.

Since when, I've prayed, to the heavens above,
May a wealthy man come, a boy of the road's love.
I'm grown, and poor, and I long to depart,
To be held by him, and his loving heart.
A foreign land, a place to call home,
May they show a way that won't make us roam.
He will bring riches, and then we'll wed,
If they leave, tell me and where they fled.
We will search, to Russia, to China, and America.
At your threshold, the wandering ascetics stand,
Not for gems or jewels, their hearts entreat,
Only for Ina Meena Deeka, a humble plea.
At your threshold, the wandering ascetics stand,