
Fecha de emisión: 26.09.1996
Idioma de la canción: inglés
Killing Me Softly(original) |
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. |
But he just came to 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 … |
He was strumming my pain, he was singing my song. |
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… |
With his song … |
(traducción) |
Rasgando mi dolor con sus dedos, |
Cantando mi vida con sus palabras, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción, |
contando mi vida entera con sus palabras, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción … |
Escuché que cantó una buena canción, |
Escuché que tenía un estilo. |
Y entonces vine a verlo para escuchar |
Por un momento. |
Y allí estaba este joven, |
un extraño a mis ojos. |
Rasgando mi dolor con sus dedos, |
Cantando mi vida con sus palabras, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción, |
contando mi vida entera con sus palabras, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción … |
Me sentí todo enrojecido por la fiebre, |
Avergonzado por la multitud, |
Sentí que encontró mis cartas y leyó |
Cada uno en voz alta. |
Recé para que terminara, pero |
solo seguia adelante... |
Rasgando mi dolor con sus dedos, |
Cantando mi vida con sus palabras, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción, |
contando mi vida entera con sus palabras, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción … |
Cantó como si me conociera en toda mi oscura desesperación. |
Y luego miró a través de mí |
Como si yo no estuviera allí. |
Pero solo vino a cantar, cantar |
Claro y fuerte. |
Rasgando mi dolor con sus dedos, |
Cantando mi vida con sus palabras, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción, |
contando mi vida entera con sus palabras, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción … |
Tocaba mi dolor, cantaba mi canción. |
Matándome suavemente con su canción, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción, |
contando mi vida entera con sus palabras, |
Matándome suavemente con su canción… |
Con su canción… |
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