Left Hand

If I could make my left hand work
then I would write a song,
and sing it in the hippest clubs
about how you were wrong.
I'd sing it in my pretty voice
and kids would think I'm hot -
it's only 'cause my hand won't work
my songs just sit and rot.

I'd make 'em sound real funky
in a cute rock sweety voice
an' I'd dress 'em up real punky
and my lyrics would be choice.
I wanna sing my songs about you
and I wanna see your face
when I'm singin' that "I love you"
lookin' straight out at your place.

I used to play piano
but it's just not the same thing.
I wanna strum some guitar chords
for songs I wanna sing.
I could sing 'em A'Cappella
but you see, I'm far too shy.
So they'll stay here in my little book,
and I'll never even try.

See, my stupid left hand's broken
it can't hold a single chord
and I'll never sing on stage now
and I'll never be adored.
So I'll just write all the lyrics
and you'll think that it's a poem
and you'll think I'm kinda silly
so instead I'll just stay home.