Drumming 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 you
I came to see him
To listen for a while
And there he was, this young boy
A stranger to my eyes
Drumming 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
strong
Strong
I felt all flushed with fever
Embarrassed by the crowd
I felt he'd found my letters
And read each one out loud
I felt he'd found my letters
I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept straddling my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words, killing me softly with his songs, killing me softly with his songs.
He sang as if he knew me in all my darkest days, 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 songs, killing me softly with his songs, telling my whole life with his words, killing me softly.
He sang as if he knew me in all my darkest days, 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 songs, killing me softly with his songs, telling my whole life with his words, killing me softly.
He sang as if he knew me in all my darkest days, and then he looked right through me as if I wasn't there.
He sang as if he knew me in all my darkest days, and then he looked right through me as if I wasn't there.