作词:Charles Fox・Norman Gimbel | |
作曲:Charles Fox・Norman Gimbel | |
| |
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 pray 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 | |
Killing me softly with his song | |
Telling my whole life with his words | |
Killing me softly | |
with his song... | |
He sang as if he knew me | |
In all my dark despair | |
And then he looked right through me as if I was not there | |
And he just kept on singing, | |
Singing clear and strong... | |
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... | |
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... | |
He was strumming my pain | |
Yeah he was singing my life | |
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... |
zuo ci: Charles Fox Norman Gimbel | |
zuo qu: Charles Fox Norman Gimbel | |
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 pray 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 | |
Killing me softly with his song | |
Telling my whole life with his words | |
Killing me softly | |
with his song... | |
He sang as if he knew me | |
In all my dark despair | |
And then he looked right through me as if I was not there | |
And he just kept on singing, | |
Singing clear and strong... | |
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... | |
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... | |
He was strumming my pain | |
Yeah he was singing my life | |
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... |
zuò cí: Charles Fox Norman Gimbel | |
zuò qǔ: Charles Fox Norman Gimbel | |
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 pray 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 | |
Killing me softly with his song | |
Telling my whole life with his words | |
Killing me softly | |
with his song... | |
He sang as if he knew me | |
In all my dark despair | |
And then he looked right through me as if I was not there | |
And he just kept on singing, | |
Singing clear and strong... | |
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... | |
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... | |
He was strumming my pain | |
Yeah he was singing my life | |
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... |