Stumming 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 good song,
I heard he had a style.
And so I came to see him to listen for awhile.
And there he was, this young boy,
A stranger to my eyes.

Stumming 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 all flushed with fever,
embarrassed by the crowd.
I felt he found my letters
And read each one out loud.
I prayed that he would finish
But he just kept right on.

Stumming 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.

He sang as if he knew me,
In all my dark despair,
And then he looked right through me,
As if I wasn't there,
And he just kept on singing,
Singing clear and strong.

Stumming 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.

See also:
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