I Can't Write Left-handed Lyrics - Live At Carnegie Hall - Bill Withers

I can't write left-handed 

Would you please write a letter, write a letter to my mother? 

Tell her to tell, tell her to tell, tell her to tell the family lawyer 

Trying to get, trying to get a deferment for my younger brother 

Tell the Reverend Harris to pray for me, Lord, Lord, Lord 

I ain't gonna live, I don't believe I'm going to live to get much older 

Strange little man over here in Vietnam I ain't, I ain't never seen 

Bless his heart ain't never done nothing to, he done shot me in my shoulder 

Boot camp we had classes 

You know we talked about fighting, fighting everyday 

And looking through rosy, rosy colored glasses 

I must admit it seemed exciting anyway 

Oh, but something that day overlooked to tell me, Lord 

Bullets look better, I must say 

Brother when they ain't coming at you 

But going out the other way 

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And please call up the Reverend, call up, call up the Reverend Harris 

Tell him to ask the Lord to do some good things for me 

Tell him I ain't gonna live, I ain't gonna live, I ain't gonna live 

To get much older, oh Lord 

Strange little man over here in Vietnam, I ain't never seen 

Bless his heart ain't never done nothing to, he done shot me in my shoulder 

Lord