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
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