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 
stranger to my eyes. 
 [bad word] 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 
Embarassed 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. 
 [bad word] 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. 

He sangas if he knew me 
In all my dark despair 
And then he looked right through me 
As if I wasn't there. 

But he was there a stranger 
Singing clear and loud 
 [bad word] 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...