Can't help about the shape I'm in
Can't sing, I ain't pretty and my legs are thin
But don't ask me what I think of you
Might not give the answer that you want me to
Now when I talked to god, I new he'd understand
He said stick by me and I'll be your guiding hand
But don't ask me what I think of you
I might not give the answer that you want me to"
Oh well, oh well,
well, well, well, well,
