Roberta Flack-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.

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.

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,
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 wasn’t 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.

MATÁNDOME SUAVEMENTE CON SU CANCIÓN

Removiendo mi dolor con sus dedos
cantando mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
Contando toda mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción.

Me dijeron que cantaba una buena canción.
que la cantaba con estilo,
así que vine a ver y escucharle un rato.
Y ahí estaba él, como un joven niño,
un extraño a mis ojos.

Removiendo mi dolor con sus dedos
cantando mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
Contando toda mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción.

Me sonrojé tanto hasta sentir fiebre,
avergonzada entre el público,
parecía haber encontrado mis cartas
y que las leía en voz alta.
Pedía a Dios que acabara por fin,
pero él seguía con ello.

Removiendo mi dolor con sus dedos
cantando mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
Contando toda mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción.

Cantaba como si me conociera
en todas mis penurias.
Y luego miró justo a través mío
como si yo no estuviera presente.
Y continuó cantando
cantando claro y fuerte.

Removiendo mi dolor con sus dedos
cantando mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
matándome suavemente con su canción,
Contando toda mi vida con sus palabras,
matándome suavemente con su canción.