Can't help about the shape I'm in

Can't sing, I ain't pretty and my legs are thin

Don't ask me what I think of you

Might not give the answer that you want me to

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"

Oh well, oh well

Well, well, well, well