Lyrics

I can't help about the shape I'm inI can't sing, I ain't pretty and my legs are thinBut don't ask me what I think of youI might not give the answer that you want me toOh wellNow, when I talked to God I knew he'd understandHe said, "Stick by my side and I'll be your guiding handBut don't ask me what I think of youI might not give the answer that you want me to"Oh well