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.
Oh... La... Oh... La...
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.
A long, long time ago, on graduation day, You handed me your book, I signed this way. Roses are red, my love, violets are blue. Sugar is sweet, my love, but not as sweet as you.
We dated through high school, and when the big day came, I wrote into your book, next to my name. Roses are red, my love, violets are blue. Sugar is sweet, my love, but not as sweet as you.
Then I went far away and you found someone new. I read your letter dear, and I wrote back to you. Roses are red, my love, violets are blue. Sugar is sweet, my love, good luck - may God bless you.
Is that your little girl? She looks a lot like you. Someday some boy will write in her book, too. Roses are red, my love, violets are blue. Sugar is sweet, my love, but not as sweet as you.