Long time ago in India,
As sacred Gita say
God appeared years ago,
And was born on a holy day.

He played the role of a cowboy
And had many friends
What he was to become?
It was still a suspense.

His birth was marked by joy in plethora
In the land of India called Mathura
People danced to celebrate his appearance
As time had answered their forbearance

Krishna was he called by many
His pals were mostly dames
People looked at him in awe and wonder,
And he had a thousand names

He killed the mighty demons
And liked playing his flute
He hypnotized cows and people
And made them follow his route

He saved the good men from defeat
Gave them counsel and guidance
He saw through all obstacles
And removed every hindrance.

He lifted a mountain with his little finger,
Much to everyone’s surprise
He made heaven on earth, the mighty beholder
And turned our place into a paradise.

He is my savior,
He is my guide.
When I catch his sacred feet,
I am sure to reach thee, sure to reach thee...

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