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Published on 01/17,2017

            Mogao bih napisati najtužniju pjesmu.

Mogao bih, čemu?

Život će uvijek imati tragičniju temu.

Mogao bih u njoj kleti Boga, sudbinu.

Ne vidim svrhu toga.

Nisu sretni ni oni što se u nebo vinu.

Trpiću, ovaj putem mi je dat s razlogom.

Šta drugo se može?

Imam samo komad neba koji mi je dom.

Frank Sinatra- Killing Me Softly


I heard she sang a good song, I heard she had a style.
And so I came to see her and listen for a while.
And there she was this young girl, a stranger to my eyes.

Strumming my pain with her fingers,
singing my life with her words,
killing me softly with her song,
killing me softly with her song,
telling my whole life with her words,
killing me softly with her song

I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd,
I felt she found my letters and read each one out loud.
I prayed that she would finish but she just kept right on.

Strumming my pain with her fingers,
singing my life with her words,
killing me softly with her song,
killing me softly with her song,
telling my whole life with her words,
killing me softly with her song


She sang as if he knew me in all my dark despair
and then she looked right through me as if I wasn't there.
But she just came to singing, singing clear and strong.


Strumming my pain with her fingers,
singing my life with her words,
killing me softly with her song,
killing me softly with her song,
telling my whole life with her words,
killing me softly with her song


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