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| Tatjana Patitz |
I heard he had a style
And so I came to see him
and 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
Telling my whole life with his words
I felt all flushed with fever
embarrassed by the crowd
I felt he found my letters
and read each one aloud
I prayed that he would finish
but he just kept right on
