| Lyrics：N.Gimbel | |
| Music：C.Fox | |
| 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 to listen for a while. | |
| And there he was this young boy, a stranger to my eyes. | |
| 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. | |
| He sang as if he knew me in all my dark despair | |
| and then he looked right through me as if I wasn't there. | |
| But he just came to singing, singing clear and strong. |
| Lyrics: N. Gimbel | |
| Music: C. Fox | |
| 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 to listen for a while. | |
| And there he was this young boy, a stranger to my eyes. | |
| 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. | |
| He sang as if he knew me in all my dark despair | |
| and then he looked right through me as if I wasn' t there. | |
| But he just came to singing, singing clear and strong. |
| Lyrics: N. Gimbel | |
| Music: C. Fox | |
| 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 to listen for a while. | |
| And there he was this young boy, a stranger to my eyes. | |
| 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. | |
| He sang as if he knew me in all my dark despair | |
| and then he looked right through me as if I wasn' t there. | |
| But he just came to singing, singing clear and strong. |
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