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

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

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 there he was this stranger singing clear and strong