I can't help about the shape I'm in
I can't sing, I ain't pretty, and my legs are thin
Don't ask me what I think of you
I might not give the answer that you want me to
Oh no, oh come on
Oh well
Stop
Now when I talk to God, I think he'll understand
He says stick by me 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
That you want me to