Oh Well

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
But don't ask me what I think of you
I might not give the answer that you want me to
Oh, well
Now, when I talked to God, I knew He'd understand
He said, 'Sit by my side and I'll be your guiding hand
But don't ask me what I think of you
I might not give the answer that you want me to'
Oh, well