khwabo ke lifafo me kisso me kitabo me
fursato ki baato me arso se khayalo me
thodi khoyi huyi kab se soyi huyi
wo aadat hai wo

karvato ki baho me silvato ki raho me
sahemi sahemo saso me surmai si bato me

zid si choothe nahi mujhse roothe nahi
vo aadat hai vo dekhe jidhar
bole niyat udhar
ye mehka hunar usne sikha kidhar
usko banane wala
kuch kuch to behka hoga
jab bhi padi hogi nazar
chot banke kabhi aise dil pe lagi
vo aadat hai vo

intezaro me rahu umar bhar mai to ruku
dil ko kaise du sukoon usse mai ye kah saku
yu zuban pe chadi mehngi jo hai padhi
vo aadat hai vo vo dekhe jidhar
bole niyat udhar ye mehka hunar
usne sikha kidhar usko banane wala
kuch kuch to behka hoga
jab bhi padi hogi nazar
chot banke kabhi aise dil pe lagi
vo aadat hai vo
khwabo ke lifafo me kisso me kitabo me
fursato ki baato me arso se khayalo me
vo aadat hai vo

Within the envelopes of dreams, in tales and tomes,
In whispers of leisure, in thoughts that roam,
Lost a while, sleeping long,
That habit, it's there.

In the arms of turning, on the paths of creases,
In hesitant breaths, in conversations of crimson hues,
Never escaping stubbornness, never breaking from me,
That habit, it's there. Wherever it looks,
There the intention speaks.
From where did it learn this fragrant skill?
The one who crafted it,
Must have been somewhat astray,
Whenever it fell into view.
Like a wound, it struck the heart,
That habit, it's there.

In waiting I shall dwell, my life I'll spend,
How to give the heart peace, to say to it, "End?"
So upon the tongue, it climbed, precious and grand,
That habit, it's there. Wherever it looks,
There the intention speaks.
From where did it learn this fragrant skill?
The one who crafted it, must have been somewhat astray,
Whenever it fell into view.
Like a wound, it struck the heart,
That habit, it's there.
Within the envelopes of dreams, in tales and tomes,
In whispers of leisure, in thoughts that roam,
That habit, it's there.