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

Now when I talked to God, I knew he'd 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 answers that you want me to"

Oh, well, oh

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