yar ki gali me pukare chale gaye
hum yar ki gali me pukare chale gaye kya
bartan kalai karalo bartan kalai karalo
bartan kalai karalo bartan kalai karalo
aashek hai hum nekhatu hamko na dekho bhalo
bartan kalai karalo bartan kalai karalo

tere kuche me bin jute
watan se chal ke aaya hu
mai dil ki har tamanna
asli ghee me tal ke laya hu
nakam hoke teri gali se na jaunga
din rat tere hi ghar ke chakkar lagaunga
badnam ho gaya to koi gum nahi mujhe
mai aasheko ki list me to aa hi jaunga
kahta rahunga mai yahi jab tak hu kuwara
bartan kalai karalo bartan kalai karalo
aashek hai hum nekhatu hamko na dekho bhalo
bartan kalai karalo bartan kalai karalo

ek tera sahara ek tera sahara
ek tera sahara ek tera sahara
dunia yahi chahti hai mai rah jau kuwara
ek tera sahara agar pyar tere dil me hai
tu ghar chhod ke aaja
tu khidki ya darwaje sabhi tod ke aaja
diwana tera dekh le marne ko chala hai
aaja ke yahi waqt hai tu daud ke aaja
kuche me tere aake lagaya hai ye nara
bartan kalai karalo bartan kalai karalo
aashek hai hum nekhatu hamko na dekho bhalo
bartan kalai karalo bartan kalai karalo

Down the beloved's lane, we called and went,
Did we call and go, down the beloved's lane?
Scour the pots, oh, scour them, polish bright,
Scour the pots, oh, scour them, with all your might.
Lovers are we, good-for-nothings, do not look our way,
Scour the pots, oh, scour them, come what may.

To your street, barefoot, I have come afar,
From my homeland, driven by a guiding star.
Every heart's desire, I've brought along,
Fried in purest ghee, where I belong.
Failed, I will not leave your street in shame,
Day and night, your house, my burning flame.
Scorned, I care not, no sorrow to impart,
I will be on the lovers' list, a work of art.
I will keep on saying this, till my youth is through,
Scour the pots, oh, scour them, the work to do.
Lovers are we, good-for-nothings, do not look our way,
Scour the pots, oh, scour them, come what may.

Your support alone, your support, I crave,
Your support alone, the world would have me a knave.
If love resides within your heart so true,
Leave your home, and come into view.
Break the windows, doors, and all that bind,
Your madman sees death, a restless mind.
Come, this is the moment, run to me, I implore,
In your street, this slogan I now pour.
Scour the pots, oh, scour them, the work to do.
Lovers are we, good-for-nothings, do not look our way,
Scour the pots, oh, scour them, come what may.