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

And when I talk to God I know He'll understand
He says, "Stick by me, 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