Cruel Kamsa sent a summons, dark and cold, A treacherous play, a future yet untold. You leave for Mathura, the tyrant’s shadow vast, But when You go, the light of every day is cast Into the deep. Who saves the promises we keep? You speak of duty, of the evil that must fall, But do You hear the anguish of our final call? This victory is bought with all our tears, Leaving us behind for empty, endless years.

Chorus The wheels begin to turn, a grinding, hateful sound, Crushing our very souls into this holy ground. “Stay, Beloved, stay!” our pleading cries ring true, “What is all the universe, if it means losing You?” We Gopis cling to the axle, mud and tear, A thousand broken vows that fill the heavy air. Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare.