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[Em]Strumming my pain with his fin[Am]gers
[D7]singing my life with his word[G]s
[Em]killing me softly with h[A]is song
killing me soft[D]ly with his [C]song
telling my [G]whole life with his [C]words.
Killing me soft[Esus4]ly
with his song[E].
[Am7]I heard he sa[D]ng a good song
[G]I heard he [C]had a style
[Am7]and so I ca[D]me to see him
and [Em]listen for a while.
[Am7]And there he wa[D7]s this young boy
[G]a stranger [B7]to my eyes.
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.
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.
Ute Gattermann,

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A Am Am7 B7 C D D7 E Em Esus4 G
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