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