| 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 |
| And 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 |
| I felt he found my letters |
| And read each one out loud |
| I prayed that he would finish |
| But he just kept right on |
| Strumming my pain with his fingers |
| Singing my life with his words |
| Killing me softly with his song |
| Is killing me softly with his song |
| Is telling my whole life with his words |
| Is killing me softly with his song |
| Ooh… lalalala-lala-la-lala |
| Lalalala-lalalala |
| Doorooroo-dadada-lalalala |
| Oh… lalalala |
| Doo-doo-dadada-lalalala |
| Oh… lalalala |
| Killing me softly with his song |
| Strumming my pain, woah… oh… |
| He was singing my life, yeah… |
| Killing me softly with his song |
| Is killing me softly with his song |
| Is telling my whole life with his words |
| Is killing me softly with his song |