[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 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 

 [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'd 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 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 was there, this 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