Bí mật của thiên tài là có được tinh thần của trẻ con khi mình đã lớn, có nghĩa là không bao giờ mất nhiệt huyết.
Aldous Huxley
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Biên tập viên
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.
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 was there a stranger
Singing clear and loud
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.