But don’t ask me what I think of you
I might not give the answer that you want me to
But don’t ask me what I think of you

I can’t sing, I ain’t pretty and my legs are thin
I might not give the answer that you want me to"
Oh well

Oh well
Now, when I talked to God I knew he’d understand

I can’t help about the shape I’m in
He said, "Stick by my side and I’ll be your guiding hand