ye duniya wo duniya hai jaha
insan ki kimat kuch bhi nahi
majbur ki chahat kuch bhi nahi
muflish ki sharafat kuch bhi nahi
bas jhut hai aur makari hai, bas jhut hai
bas jhut hai aur makari hai
sachayi sadakat kuch bhi nahi
ji chahata hai is duniya ko
ji chahata hai is duniya ko
mai hanste hanste thukra du
ji chahata hai ji chahata hai
is duniya ko hanste hanste

ye aisa gulshan hai jisme
kaliyo ki chitaye jalti hai
shabnam ke shishkate hai aansu
bulbul ki sadaye jalti hai
rota hai pyar baharo ka, rota hai
rota hai pyar baharo ka
phulo ki wafaye jalti hai
is gulshan me sab jalte hai
bachne ki surat kuch bhi nahi
ji chahata hai ji chahata hai
is duniya ko mai hanste hanste thukra du
ji chahata hai ji chahata hai
is duniya ko hanste hanste

har dharam yaha ka paisa hai, iman yaha ka paisa hai
insaan yaha ka paisa hai, bhagwan yaha ka paisa hai
geeta bhi yaha ki paisa hai, gita
geeta bhi yaha ki paisa hai, kuran yaha ka paisa hai
duniya ki hakikat paisa hai, paise ki hakikat kuch bhi nahi
ji chahata hai ji chahata hai
is duniya ko mai hanste hanste thukra du
ji chahata hai ji chahata hai
is duniya ko hanste hanste

This world, that world, a realm unbound,
Where man’s worth is a whisper lost,
A pauper's plea, a hollow sound,
The meek’s integrity, a cost,
Of nothing, naught, it offers naught,
But falsehood woven, cunning wrought,
And truth, a forgotten, fading thought.
My soul yearns to leave this place,
My soul yearns to leave this place,
And with a smile, its form erase,
My soul yearns to leave this place,
And with a smile, its form erase.

A garden this, where flames ignite,
On the pyres of budding grace,
Where dewdrop tears weep through the night,
And nightingales their songs embrace
A death of spring's sweet, tender art,
A death of spring's sweet, tender art,
Where petals' loyalty is torn apart.
In this garden, all things burn,
No escape, no lesson learned.
My soul yearns, my soul yearns,
To leave this world, with smiles that turn,
My soul yearns, my soul yearns,
To leave this world, where wisdom spurns.

Here, money is the creed you hold,
Your faith and truth, its gilded guise,
Man himself, his story told,
And even God, before your eyes.
The Gita’s words, a price to pay,
The Gita’s words, a price to pay,
The Quran's verses, lead astray,
The world's reality, in coins it lies,
But money's truth, a fleeting prize.
My soul yearns, my soul yearns,
To leave this world, where laughter burns,
My soul yearns, my soul yearns,
To leave this world, where nothing learns.