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