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