ek to othwaa tohaar lale laal
ek to othwaa tohaar lale laal
opar paan khayilu
ek to othwaa tohaar lale laal
opar paan khayilu
tata sumu jayisan tohaar chal
ho tata sumu jayisan tohaar chal
hay jaan khayilu
ho ek to othwaa tohaar lale laal
opar paan khayilu
tata sumu jayisan tohaar chal
ho tata sumu jayisan tohaar chal
hay jaan khayilu
ho ek to othwaa tohaar lale laal
opar paan khayilu

chhatiya se hamri jaan odhaniya sarkava
jawaani me hamra ke nahi jiyate muaav
chala makai me kari ham pyaar
tohaar chhut jaai shardi bukhar
chala makai me kari ham pyaar
tohaar chhut jaai shardi bukhar
khiyaaib tohnke aam ke aachar
tu je maan gayilu
ek to othwaa tohaar lale laal
opar paan khayilu
ho opar paan khayilu

saicale hamar kahi panchar na hokhe
hamra chhurva ke dhaar kahi, are bhothar na hokhe
apna choli ke leve da naap
bola pura is di aaki haaf
apna choli ke leve da naap
bola pura is di aaki haaf
are ham satua dhani, tu pisaan bhayilu
ek to othwaa tohaar lale laal
opar paan khayilu
tata sumu jayisan tohaar chal
ho tata sumu jayisan tohaar chal
hay jaan khayilu hay hay
ho ek to othwaa tohaar lale laal
opar paan khayilu
ek to othwaa tohaar lale laal
opar paan khayilu
ek to othwaa tohaar lale laal
opar paan khayilu

Your lips, a crimson bloom,
Your lips, a crimson bloom,
Betel's kiss they consume.
Your lips, a crimson bloom,
Betel's kiss they consume.
Like Tata Sumo, your alluring sway,
Like Tata Sumo, your alluring sway,
My life you now consume, I say.
Oh, your lips, a crimson bloom,
Betel's kiss they consume.
Like Tata Sumo, your alluring sway,
Like Tata Sumo, your alluring sway,
My life you now consume, I say.
Oh, your lips, a crimson bloom,
Betel's kiss they consume, yes.

From my chest, you slip the veil,
In youth, you leave me to fail.
Let's make love in fields of maize,
Your winter chill, it will erase.
Let's make love in fields of maize,
Your winter chill, it will erase.
Mango pickle, I'll then embrace,
If you will say yes to my grace.
Your lips, a crimson bloom,
Betel's kiss they consume,
Oh, betel's kiss they consume.

May my bicycle never fail,
May my knife's sharp edge prevail.
Let me measure your bodice true,
Tell me, full or just a few?
Let me measure your bodice true,
Tell me, full or just a few?
I am the sattu, you are the flour, in view.
Your lips, a crimson bloom,
Betel's kiss they consume.
Like Tata Sumo, your alluring sway,
Like Tata Sumo, your alluring sway,
My life you now consume, oh my!
Your lips, a crimson bloom,
Betel's kiss they consume.
Your lips, a crimson bloom,
Betel's kiss they consume.
Your lips, a crimson bloom,
Betel's kiss they consume, oh!