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 talk to God
I know he'll understand
He says: 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