man ki laage jab tak na lagan
mile naa chain kare chahe laakho jatan
gehra rista hai bahut
maut aur khawaisho ke beech
maut ke darr se hum saari khwaishe
isi janam me puri karna chahte hai
naa jante hue ki maut bhi
zindagi ka hi ek hissa hai
hum maut bhi

titliyon jaisa ye mann
titliyon jaisa ye mann
bole re bole re
bole re bole re
bhaago me phoolo me
in mast baharo me
dole re dole re
dole re dole re
titliyon jaisa yea mann
titliyon jaisa yea mann

rang bhari pehan kar choli woh phool se boli
rang bhari pehan kar choli woh phool se boli
pagli pawan ke pairo par milke sajae rangoli
chura kar unse khushbu dhoodhti hai bekhudi me
kaliyo ka aur chaman
titliyon jaisa yea mann
titliyon jaisa yea mann

udte udte titli ek din chhune chali aakash
udte udte titli ek din chhune chali aakash
pee ke peeche baabri bhulti raah na kaash
ulaj kar gum hui baadlo ke jhurmut me
aur khoya neel gagan
titliyon jaisa yea mann
titliyon jaisa yea mann
bole re bole re
bole re bole re
bhaago me phoolo me in mast baharo me
dole re dole re
dole re dole re
titliyon jaisa yea mann
titliyon jaisa yea mann.

Until the heart finds its yearning,
rest eludes, though a thousand efforts are turning.
A profound bond, deeply entwined,
between death and desires of the mind.

Fear of the end, a driving force,
to fulfill all wishes, charting life's course.
Unknowing that death, a seamless thread,
is woven through life, from birth to bed.
Even death, a part of us, we plead.

Like butterflies, this restless soul,
a story the heart will extol.
Whispers arise, soft and low,
carried on winds where the wild flowers grow.
Dancing and swirling, in meadows so bright,
like butterflies taking flight.

In robes of color, the flower's plea,
to the wind's embrace, wild and free.
Stolen fragrance, lost in a haze,
seeking bliss in life's intricate maze.
Of buds and gardens, a vibrant span,
like butterflies, this fleeting plan.

Soaring high, a butterfly's quest,
to touch the sky, and to be blessed.
Drunk on the dream, forgetting the way,
lost in the clouds, come what may.
Ensnared and lost in the heavens above,
like butterflies, yearning for love.
Whispers arise, soft and low,
carried on winds where the wild flowers grow.
Dancing and swirling, in meadows so bright,
like butterflies taking flight.
Like butterflies, this restless soul.