| I heard she sang a good song
|
| I heard she had a style
|
| And so I came to see
|
| To listen for a while
|
| And there she was this young Girl
|
| A stranger to my eyes
|
| Struming my pain with her fingers
|
| Singing my life with her words
|
| Killing me softy with her song
|
| Killing me softly with her song
|
| Telling my whole life with her words
|
| Killing me softly with her song
|
| I felt all flushed with fever
|
| Embarrassed by the crowd
|
| I felt she found my letters
|
| And read eachone out loud
|
| I prayed that she would finish
|
| But she just kept right on
|
| Struming my pain with her fingers
|
| Singing my life with her words
|
| Killing me softy with her song
|
| Killing me softly with her song
|
| Telling my whole life with his words
|
| Killing me softly with her song
|
| She sang as if she knew me
|
| In all my darkness fair
|
| And then she looked right through me
|
| As if I wasn’t there
|
| And he kept on singing
|
| Singing clear and strong
|
| Struming my pain with her fingers
|
| Singing my life with her words
|
| Killing me softy with her song
|
| Killing me softly with her song
|
| Telling my whole life with her words
|
| Killing me softly with her song |