main jatt yamla pagla deewana main jatt yamla pagla deewana
ho rabba itti si bat na jana
ke ke ke o mainnu pyar kardi hai sade utte o mardi hai
ke o mainnu pyar kardi hai sade utte o mardi hai
main jatt yamla pagla deewana
ho rabba itti si bat na jana
ke ke ke o mainnu pyar kardi hai sade utte o mardi hai
ke o mainnu pyar kardi hai hay hay hay
sade utte o mardi hai

usne to kaha har bat ko ishare mein
diya bhi jala ke rakha raton ko chaubare mein
usne to kaha har bat ko ishare mein
diya bhi jala ke rakha raton ko chaubare mein
reshmi dupatta phenka peeng ke hulare mein
mele mein akele phiri bazar sare mein
kaun sa banaya na bahana bahana bahana
main jatt yamla pagla deewana
ho rabba itti si bat na jana
ke ke ke o mainnu pyar kardi hai sade utte o mardi hai
ke o mainnu pyar kardi hai he he he
sade utte o mardi hai

aisa nahin hota to wo aise sharmati na
mujhe ate dekh sadak pe bhag jati na
aisa nahin hota to wo aise sharmati na
mujhe ate dekh sadak pe bhag jati na
zulfon ke ghoonghat mein mukhda chhupati na
chhoti si umar mein wo jan ko lagati na
prem da rog purana purana purana
main jatt yamla pagla deewana
ho rabba itti si bat na jana
ke ke ke o mainnu pyar kardi hai sade utte o mardi hai
ke o mainnu pyar kardi hai he he he
sade utte o mardi hai
main jatt yamla pagla deewana

I, a Jat, wild, mad, and a lover, I am,
Oh Lord, a simple truth I can't quite scan,
That she, she, she, loves only me,
That she, she, she, dies for only me.
I, a Jat, wild, mad, and a lover, I am,
Oh Lord, a simple truth I can't quite scan,
That she, she, she, loves only me,
That she, she, she, dies for only me.

In hints she whispered every sweet desire,
Lit lamps that burned with a passionate fire,
In hints she whispered every sweet desire,
Lit lamps that burned with a passionate fire,
Her silken scarf, a swing's vibrant pyre,
Alone she wandered through the fair's attire,
What excuse could she not find, a liar, liar, liar.
I, a Jat, wild, mad, and a lover, I am,
Oh Lord, a simple truth I can't quite scan,
That she, she, she, loves only me,
That she, she, she, dies for only me.

If not, why blush with a heart's warm art,
And flee the street when I play my part?
If not, why blush with a heart's warm art,
And flee the street when I play my part?
In tresses, veiled, she hides her face apart,
A young soul with love's very dart,
An age old malady of a heart, heart, heart,
I, a Jat, wild, mad, and a lover, I am,
Oh Lord, a simple truth I can't quite scan,
That she, she, she, loves only me,
That she, she, she, dies for only me.
I, a Jat, wild, mad, and a lover, I am.