| (with John Legend) | |
| 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 | |
| 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 |
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