I can't help about the shape I'm in.

I can't sing, I ain't pretty, and my legs are thin

Don't ask me what I think of you.

I might not give the answers that you want me to.



Oh, Well



When I talked to God, I knew he'd understand.

He said, "Stick by me, I'll be your guiding hand.

But don't ask me what I think of you.

I might not give the answers that you want me to".



Oh, Well