tum kya kahte ho kuch samajh me nahi aata
hindi me bolo na hindi
rusi na amriki na chini pakistani
rusi na amriki na chini pakistani
ye itom bum kayamat ka hai pura hindustani
are rusi na amriki na chini paakistani
rusi na amriki na chini pakistani
ye itom bum kayamat ka hai pura hindustani

jaise koi chumbak mujhko wo kheeche
khud hi khatre ke jaau mai pichhe
pichhe pichhe pichhe pichhe
haye jaise koi chumbak mujhko wo kheeche
khud hi khatre ke jaau mai pichhe
jaan jayegi teri hatho se jo chhutega
us din teri khair nahi jab ye bum futega
ye itom bum kayamat ka hai pura hindustani
rusi na amriki na chini paakistaani
rusi na amriki na chini paakistaani
ye itom bum kayamat ka hai pura hindustani

kanpta hai dil bas isi dar se
jane kis baat pe mujhpe ye barse
haye kanpta hai dil bas isi dar se
jane kis baat pe mujhpe ye barse
chhod de mera pichha khatra bhi tal jayega
aag se tu khel nahi warna tu jal jayega
ye itom bum kayamat ka hai pura hindustani
rusi na amriki na chini pakistani
rusi na amriki o na chini pakistani
ye itom bum kayamat ka hai pura hindustani

he lagti hu masum umar hai satrah
gaal tum chhuna naa isme hai khatra
he lagti hu masum umar hai satrah
gaal tum chhuna naa isme hai khatra
hona hai jo ho jaye ye dil hanskar jhelega
khatro ki to aadat hai khatro se dil khelega
ye itom bum kayamat ka hai pura hindustani
rusi na amriki na chini pakistani
rusi na amriki na chini pakistani
ye itom bum kayaamat ka hai pura hindustani
rusi na amriki o na chini pakistani
rusi na amriki o na chini pakistani
ye itom bum kayamat ka hai pura hindustani

Your words, a distant tongue, a veil,
Speak to me now, in Hindi's trail.
No Russian drawl, no Yankee plea,
No Chinese whispers, Pakistani decree.
This doomsday bloom, a heart of fire,
Born of Hindustan, fueled by desire.
No Russian, Yankee, Chinese, or foe,
This Indian bomb, a fiery show.

Like a magnet, drawing near,
I chase the danger, fueled by fear.
Following, following, ever near,
Like a magnet, drawing clear.
My life will fade, if your touch it feels,
When the bomb explodes, fate reveals.
This doomsday bloom, a heart of fire,
Born of Hindustan, fueled by desire.
No Russian, Yankee, Chinese or foe,
This Indian bomb, a fiery show.

My heart it trembles, fear takes hold,
On what whim will this fury unfold?
My heart it trembles, consumed by fright,
On what whim will this rage ignite?
Leave me be, the danger will cease,
Don't play with fire, or you won't find peace.
This doomsday bloom, a heart of fire,
Born of Hindustan, fueled by desire.
No Russian, Yankee, Chinese, or foe,
This Indian bomb, a fiery show.

A maiden's guise, with seventeen years,
Touch not my cheek, and quell your fears.
A maiden's guise, with seventeen years,
Touch not my cheek, and quell your fears.
Let what will be, the heart will embrace,
Dangers I crave, in this perilous space.
This doomsday bloom, a heart of fire,
Born of Hindustan, fueled by desire.
No Russian, Yankee, Chinese, or foe,
This Indian bomb, a fiery show.
No Russian, Yankee, Chinese or foe,
This Indian bomb, a fiery show.