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 answer 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

So don't ask me what I think of you

I might not give the answer that you want me to



Oh well