[Intro - harmonium & sarangi, minor to major swell]
Old radio hum, a commentator's line — "And that's another!" into the night,
A kite cuts the dusk above Ghanta Ghar, mango sweetness in the light.
We remember terraces where boys chased leather and dreamt in the heat,
Chai steam and market calls, the city's heartbeat under our feet.
[Verse 1]
We once stood on clay rooftops, palms cupped round a borrowed light,
Counting shadows of the willow trees, chanting through the summer fight.
An elder's laugh from the courtyard, a mother's call to come inside,
A child's first bat, a neighbor's cheer — small moments turned to pride.
[Pre-Chorus]
Soft drums of the street, a dholak breathes a steady time,
Sufi lamps at evening shrines, prayers threaded through the rhyme.
We carry these little frames — old bazaars, the mango lanes,
They shape the way we run, the way we call each other's names.
[Chorus]
Raise the flags, remember home — Multan, we sing your name.
Old streets, bright dreams, one flame — Sultan! Sultan! (Sultan!)
From Ghanta Ghar to the river bend, our voices stake their claim.
Sing loud, sing once, sing all the same — Multan, we sing your name.
[Verse 2]
Radio static, commentator's crackle, the terrace shakes with cheer,
Plastic chairs and painted faces, fathers wiping joyful tears.
Mango summers stain our fingers, jasmine night and bazaar light,
Street vendors call the scoreboard out; the city holds us tight.
[Pre-Chorus]
The sarangi hums a memory, a tune that folds us in,
An old coach claps his wrinkled hands — "This is where legends begin."
We remember where we learned to stand, the alleys where we played,
The echo of our childhood calls, in every chant that's made.
[Chorus]
Raise the flags, remember home — Multan, we sing your name.
Old streets, bright dreams, one flame — Sultan! Sultan! (Sultan!)
From Ghanta Ghar to the river bend, our voices stake their claim.
Sing loud, sing once, sing all the same — Multan, we sing your name.
[Bridge — memory vignette]
Do you recall the dusty bat, the elder's grin at dawn?
How the neighbor's radio would shout a six that lived beyond the lawn.
A mother's sari at the window, prayer beads slipping soft and slow,
We learned to love the little things — they lift us when we go.
[Build]
(Clap-clap — hands on terraces, call-and-response)
We remember: mango trees, chai cups, the shrine's slow light.
We remember: first win, first loss, that crowd into the night.
[Final Chorus]
Raise the flags, remember home — Multan, we sing your name.
Old streets, bright dreams, one flame — Sultan! Sultan! (Sultan!)
From Ghanta Ghar to the river bend, the city roars again.
Sing loud, sing once, sing all the same — Multan, we sing your name.
[Outro]
From generation to generation, a chant on every lane,
Sultan of our summers, Multan — forever in our veins.
(Sultan! Sultan!) — short chant, hands on hearts, the crowd replies,
Remember home, remember why — beneath these ancient skies.
