jane man tumse milne ka bana liya programme
socha tha bambai pahuch jaunga hote sham
itne me hi station aaya mai kitna tha khush
bhid bahut thi ik duje ko log kar rahe the push
bahar aaya to dekha saman mera tha gol
dauda to takraya samne tha electric pole
i am sorry sorry madam
i am late traffic jam traffic jam traffic jam

rashte me fir taxi pakdi taxi wala bola
kaha pe jana hai ye mistar kahke door ko khola
phone ka numbar yad tha mujhko maine phone lagaya
phone tera engaged tha kitna phone patak mai aaya
tirar panchar ho gaya tuta taxi ka gate
itni bhid thi isiliye ho gaya ji mai late
i am sorry sorry madam
i am late traffic jam traffic jam traffic jam

jaise taise ghar mai pahucha bijli si haye giri
tera servent bola madam abhi gayi delhi
poch pasina mathe ka mai dauda airport
pessanger ne lift mujhe de kar ke kiya support
haamf raha tha mai khidki se
maine kiya najara delhi ke hi liye ud raha tha
wo plane tumhara ho gaya mai late
i am sorry sorry madam
i am late traffic jam traffic jam traffic jam

you cheater you cheater you lyer
you cheater you cheater you lyer
oye kudiye oye sweety mere pas tu aana aana
oye kudiye oye sweety mere pas tu aana aana
jhumo jhumo nacho nacho i want to feel your body
jhumo jhumo nacho nacho jhumo jhumo nacho nacho
come on touch me i am sorry sorry madam
i am late because of traffic jam

My heart yearned, a meeting planned, a rendezvous made.
Bombay bound, I thought, as twilight gently swayed.
The station loomed, a surge of joy, a hopeful start,
Then bodies pressed, a crush of souls, a world torn apart.
Emerging forth, my luggage gone, a vanished trace,
I ran, I stumbled, met the pole, in this forsaken space.
I'm sorry, sorry, my dear,
I'm late, the traffic's here, the traffic's fear.

A taxi hailed, a weary plea, a driver's gruff command,
"Where to, sir?" the door swung wide, in this demanding land.
Your number known, a memory held, I dialed with desperate hand,
Your phone engaged, a crushing blow, I flung it from my hand.
A flat tire's groan, a broken door, the taxi's plight,
And in that throng, that surging mass, I lost myself in night.
I'm sorry, sorry, my dear,
I'm late, the traffic's here, the traffic's fear.

At last, your door, a breathless dash, like lightning's sudden sting,
Your servant spoke, a cruel report, "To Delhi, she takes wing."
I wiped my brow, a sweat-soaked face, to the airport's call,
A passenger, a generous soul, gave lift, embracing all.
Panting hard, I watched the sky,
Your plane, a silver gleam, it soared on high.
To Delhi bound, I watched it go, I'm late, beyond compare,
I'm sorry, sorry, my dear,
I'm late, the traffic's here, the traffic's fear.

You cheater, you cheater, you liar!
You cheater, you cheater, you liar!
Come to me, darling, my sweet, come to me, near!
Come to me, darling, my sweet, come to me, my dear!
Dance and sway, I crave your form, my soul ignites,
Dance and sway, I yearn for you, through darkest nights.
Come on, touch me, I'm sorry, my dear,
I'm late, because of traffic's fear.