Struming 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. And listen for a while. And there he was this young. Boy. A stranger to my eyes. Struming my pain with his fingers. Singing my life with his words. Killing me softy 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 letter. And read each one out loud. I prayed that he would finish. But he just kept right on. Struming my pain with his fingers. Singing my life with his words. Killing me softy 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 darkness fair. And then he looked right through me. As if I wasn't there. And he just kept on singing. Singing clear and strong. Struming my pain with his fingers. Singing my life with his words. Killing me softy with his song. Killing me softly with his song. Telling my whole life. With his words. Killing me softly with his song. Ohhhhhhhhhhh oohhhhhhh...Lalalal..Ohhhh lalaaaaaaa. Struming my pain with his fingers. Singing my life with his words. Killing me softy with his song. Killing me softly with his song. Telling my whole life. With his words. Killing me (softly). He was strumming my pain. Yeah he was singing my life. Killing me softly with his song. Killing em softly with his song. Telling my whole life with his words. Killing me softly with his song