With His Song

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I heard he sang a good song,

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I heard he had a style.

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And so I came to see him

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to listen for a while.

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And there he was, this young boy,

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a stranger to my eyes,

Chorus

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Strumming my pain with his fingers

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Singing my life with his words.

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Killing me softly with his song,

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Killing me softly with his song,

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Telling my whole life with his words.

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Killing me softly with his song.

Verse 2

I felt all flused 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.
—to chorus–