Music Video

Bill Withers - I Can't Write Left-Handed (Live) (Official Audio)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Bill Withers
Bill Withers
Vocals
Bernorce Blackman
Bernorce Blackman
Guitar
Ray Jackson
Ray Jackson
Piano
Bobbye Hall
Bobbye Hall
Percussion
James Gadson
James Gadson
Drums
Melvin Dunlap
Melvin Dunlap
Bass
B. Blackmon
B. Blackmon
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bill Withers
Bill Withers
Songwriter
Raymond Jackson
Raymond Jackson
Songwriter
Ray Jackson
Ray Jackson
String Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bill Withers
Bill Withers
Producer
Bernorce Blackman
Bernorce Blackman
Producer
Ray Jackson
Ray Jackson
Producer
James Gadson
James Gadson
Producer
Melvin Dunlap
Melvin Dunlap
Producer
PHIL SCHIER
PHIL SCHIER
Recording Engineer
Gray Ladinsky
Gray Ladinsky
Recording Engineer
B. Blackmon
B. Blackmon
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
We recorded this song on October the 6th
Since then, the war has been declared over
If you're like me, you'll remember it
Like anyone remembers any war
One, big drag
[Verse 2]
Lot of people, write songs about wars and government
Very social things
But I think about young guys
Who were like I was, when I was young
I had no more idea about any government
Or political things or anything
[Verse 3]
And I think about those kind of young guys now
Who all of a sudden somebody comes up
And they're very law abiding
So if somebody says, "Go" they don't ask any questions
They just go
[Verse 4]
And I can remember not too long ago, seeing a young guy
With his right arm gone
Just got back
And I ask him
How he was doing
He said, he was doing alright now
But he had thought he was gonna die
He said getting shot at didn't bother him
It was getting shot, that shook him up
And I tried to put myself in his position
Maybe he cried
Maybe he said
[Verse 5]
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 my family lawyer
Try to get, try to get a deferment
For my younger brother
[Verse 6]
Tell the Reverend Harris
To pray for me, Lord, Lord, Lord
I ain't gonna live
I don't believe, I'm gonna live to get much older
[Verse 7]
Strange little man, over here in Vietnam
I ain't, I ain't never seen
Bless his heart, I ain't never done nothin' to
He done shot me, in my shoulder
[Verse 8]
Boot camp, we had classes, ah-ha-ah-ah-ah
You know we talked about fightin'
Fightin' everyday
And lookin' through rosy
Rosy colored glasses, ah-ah
[Verse 9]
I must admit, it seemed exciting
Anyway
But something that day
Overlooked to tell me
Lord
Bullets look better, I must say
Rather when they are comin' at you
But go without the other way
[Verse 10]
And please, call up the Reverend
Call up, call up the Reverend Harris
And tell him, to ask the Lord to do some good things
For me, Lord
Tell him, I ain't gonna live, I ain't gonna live
I ain't gonna live, to get much older
[Verse 11]
Oh, Lord
Strange little man, over here in Vietnam
I ain't never seen, bless his heart
I ain't never done nothin' to
He done shot me in my shoulder
[Verse 12]
Thank you
Written by: Bill Withers, Raymond Jackson
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