Musikvideo

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
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Bill Withers
Bill Withers
Songwriter
Ray Jackson
Ray Jackson
String Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bill Withers
Bill Withers
Producer
Ray Jackson
Ray Jackson
Producer
Melvin Dunlap
Melvin Dunlap
Producer
PHIL SCHIER
PHIL SCHIER
Recording Engineer
Gray Ladinsky
Gray Ladinsky
Recording Engineer

Songtexte

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 anybody remembers any war One big drag Lot of people writes 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 And I think about those kind of young guys now Who all of a sudden somebody comes up And they are very law abiding So if somebody says go They don't ask any questions, they just go And I can remember not too long ago seeing a young guy With his right arm gone Just got back And I asked 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 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 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 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 Bootcamp we had classes, aha You know we talked about fightin', fightin' everyday And lookin' through rosy, rosy coloured glasses I must admit it seemed exciting, anyway Oh, but something that day overlooked to tell me, lord Bullets look better, I must say Rather when they comin' at you But go without the other way 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 no 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 I ain't never done nothing to He done shot me in my shoulder
Writer(s): Bill Withers, Raymond Mckinley Jackson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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