This is Sri Lanka.
We have our hopes and our fears,
And our subtle bigoted tears,
We have our dreams and our screams,
And our avurudu with kokis themes,
We have our joys and our boys,
And our smooth gelled name-calling decoys,
We have our aesthetics, sympathetics, politics,
And our self-entitled acoustics,
We have our Bollywood, Hollywood, Kollywood,
But ’56 jams were the righteous
We believe the world should do good,
While we turn drug addicts in the hood into
Our backyard stash of elm wood.

We believe to be better is best.
And praise the lone man in his mansion behest.

Aisha walks the road in her beautiful double plaits,
Her fears at day, I can’t really relate
Her face fall at the swish of a wimple is odd
The constitution tells her her body is hers after all

We call the whole world to watch
While we fight our Big Match,
Our World’s End and Lion Rock,
Are dead ends and brave shock.

We wave our Namo mathas
But good bye our Sri Lanka thaayes

This is Sri Lanka.
And We love it because it is ours.