Killing me softly with his song by Roberta Flack
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 good song,
I heard he had a style,
And so I came to see him and listen for a while.
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 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
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.
He sang 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
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.
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.
He was strumming my pain,
Here he was singing my life,
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.
