| Strumming my pain with his fingers
|
| Singing my life with his words
|
| Killing me softly with his song
|
| Killing me softly with his song
|
| Telling my whole life with his words
|
| Killing me softly… with his song
|
| I heard he sang a song
|
| I heard he had a spell
|
| And so I came to see him
|
| And listen for awhile
|
| And there he was, this young boy
|
| A stranger to my eyes
|
| Strumming my pain with his fingers
|
| Singing my life with his words
|
| Killing me softly with his song
|
| Killing me softly with his song
|
| Telling my whole life with his words
|
| Killing me softly… with his song
|
| I felt a flash of fever
|
| Embarrassed by the crowd
|
| I felt he found my letters
|
| And read each one aloud
|
| I pray that he would finish
|
| But he just kept right on
|
| Strumming my pain with his fingers
|
| Singing my life with his words
|
| Killing me softly with his song
|
| Killing me softly with his song
|
| Telling my whole life with his words
|
| Killing me softly… with his song
|
| With his song… |