chori chori meri gali aana hai bura, aayeja
aake bina baat kiye jaana hai bura, aayeja
chori chori meri gali aana hai bura, aayeja
aake bina baat kiye jaana hai bura, aayeja

achchhe nahi yeh ishaare, pedon tale chhup chhupaake
aao na do baatein kar le, najaron se najare milaake
din hai pyaar ke mauj bahaar ke
din hai pyaar ke mauj bahaar ke
dekho bhole bhaale, ji ko tarsaana hai bura
chori chori meri gali aana hai bura, aayeja
aake bina baat kiye jaana hai bura, aayeja

dil aa gaya hai toh pyare badnaam hone ka darr kya
ishq aur wafa ki gali mein, duniya ki ghum ka gujar kya
din hai pyaar ke mauj bahaar ke
din hai pyaar ke mauj bahaar ke
dekho bhole bhaale ji ko tarsaana hai bura
chori chori meri gali aana hai bura, aayeja
aake bina baat kiye jaana hai bura, aayeja

din hai pyaar ke, mauj bahaar ke
din hai pyaar ke, mauj bahaar ke
dekho bhole bhaale, ji ko tarsaana hai bura
chori chori meri gali aana hai bura, aayeja
aake bina baat kiye jaana hai bura, aayeja
chori chori meri gali aana hai bura, aayeja
aake bina baat kiye jaana hai bura, aayeja

To steal into my lane, a clandestine tread, is ill, come hither.
To come, then leave, without a word unsaid, is ill, come hither.
To steal into my lane, a clandestine tread, is ill, come hither.
To come, then leave, without a word unsaid, is ill, come hither.

These veiled signs beneath the trees, a hidden tryst, they are not kind.
Let us converse, with eyes that meet, a soul's surrender, intertwined.
Days of love, in blooms so bright,
Days of love, in blooms so bright,
To torment a heart so pure, is ill.
To steal into my lane, a clandestine tread, is ill, come hither.
To come, then leave, without a word unsaid, is ill, come hither.

If the heart is won, my love, why fear disgrace?
In the lanes of love and faith, what place has the world's embrace?
Days of love, in blooms so bright,
Days of love, in blooms so bright,
To torment a heart so pure, is ill.
To steal into my lane, a clandestine tread, is ill, come hither.
To come, then leave, without a word unsaid, is ill, come hither.

Days of love, in blooms so bright,
Days of love, in blooms so bright,
To torment a heart so pure, is ill.
To steal into my lane, a clandestine tread, is ill, come hither.
To come, then leave, without a word unsaid, is ill, come hither.
To steal into my lane, a clandestine tread, is ill, come hither.
To come, then leave, without a word unsaid, is ill, come hither.