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 answers that you want me to. Oh, Well When I talked to God, I knew he'd understand. He said, "Stick by me, I'll be your guiding hand. But don't ask me what I think of you.
I might not give the answers that you want me to". Oh, Well 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 answers that you want me to. Oh, Well