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 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 word out loud I prayed that he would finish but he just kept right on Strumming my pain with his fingers...
He sang as if he knew me in all my darkest pair And then he looked right through me as if I wasn't there But then he was there this stranger singing clear and strong Strumming my pain with his fingers...