EmStrumming my pain with his Amfingers,
SinDging my life with his Gmaj7words.
KilEmling me softly with his A7song,
Killing me soDftly with hCis song;
telling my whoGmaj7le life, with hCmaj7is words,
Killing me Fmaj7softly with his songE7.
Am7I heard he sDang a good song,
Gmaj7I heard he had a Cmaj7style,
Am7And so I wDent to see him and liEmsten for aEm7while.
Am7And there he wDas this young boy
Gmaj7A stranger B7to my eyes.
Am7I felt all Dflushed with fever,
Gmaj7Embarassed Cmaj7by the crowd.
Am7I felt he foDund my letters,
EmAnd read each one out Em7loud.
Am7I prayed that Dhe would finish,
Gmaj7But he just kB7ept right on.
Am7He sang as Dif he knew me,
Gmaj7In all my Cmaj7dark despair.
Am7And then he looDked right through me as if,
EmAs if I wasn't Em7there.
Am7He just kDept right on,
Gmaj7Singin' lB7oud and strong.