I see my country
Flourishing in the valley
From sugar cane to rice
With Rickshaws in betweenFrom the rural villages
To the bustling metropolis
I watch it grow
Roads wind like blood flow
The people have a mission
Each with a unique destiny
Guided by faith
For a promise of a better landFrom Pashto to Punjabi
The diversity is ripe
For the land of the pure
Pakistan Zindabad
