Bill Withers – I Cant Write Left-Handed (Guitar)

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I can't write left handed

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

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

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Try to get, try to get a deferment for my younger brother

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Tell the Reverend Harris to pray for me, lord,

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

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

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Bless his heart I ain't never done nothin' to, he done shot me in my shoulder

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Boot camp we had classes

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You know we talked about fightin', fightin' everyday

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And lookin' through rosy, rosy colored glasses

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I must admit it seemed exciting          anyway

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But something that day      overlooked to tell me

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   Bullet look better      I must say

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Rather when they         comin' at you.

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  But go without  the other way

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

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And tell him to ask the lord to do some good things       for me

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Tell him, I ain't gonna live, I ain't gonna live, I ain't gonna live to get much older

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

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Bless his heart I ain't never done nothin' to, he done shot me in my shoulder