I heard he sang a good song
I heard he had a style
And so I came to see him to 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
Ifelt he'd found my letters , and read
each one out loud
I prayed that he would finish , but he just kept right on
He sang as if he knew me , in all my dark despair
And then he looked right though
me , as if I wasn't there
But he was there , this stranger , singing clear and stroug
Strummin' my pain....
Oh , he was singing my life....
La , la , la....With his song