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Killing me softly with his song, Killing me softly with his song, Strumming my pain with his fingers, Killing me softly with his song ... Telling my whole life with his words, Singing my life with his words, |
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I heard he had a style. And there he was this young boy, to listen for a while. And so I came to see him I heard he sang a good song, a stranger to my eyes. |
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Killing me softly with his song, Killing me softly with his song ... Telling my whole life with his words, Singing my life with his words, Killing me softly with his song, Strumming my pain with his fingers, |
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but he just kept right on ... I felt all flushed with fever, I prayed that he would finish and read each one out loud. embarrassed by the crowd, I felt he found my letters |
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Telling my whole life with his words, Singing my life with his words, Strumming my pain with his fingers, Killing me softly with his song, Killing me softly with his song ... Killing me softly with his song, |
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singing clear and strong. And then he looked right through me in all my dark despair. He sang as if he knew me And he just kept on singing, as if I wasn't there. |
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Killing me softly with his song, Singing my life with his words, Strumming my pain with his fingers, Killing me softly with his song ... Killing me softly with his song, Telling my whole life with his words, |
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Telling my whole life with his words, Singing my life with his words, Killing me softly with his song, Killing me softly with his song, Killing me ... Strumming my pain with his fingers, |
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He was strumming, yeah, he was singing my life. Telling my whole life with his words, Killing me softly with his song ... Killing me softly with his song, Killing me softly with his song, |
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