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, \"Stick by me 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
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