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
|