I can't help about the shape I'm in
I 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
Now when I talk to God
I hope he'll understand
He said "Stick by me
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"