I 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
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 my side and I´ll be your guiding hand
Don´t ask me what I think of you
I might not give the answer that you want me to"
Well

Oh, well, oh, well
Well, well, well, well