So what?

Don't ask me 'bout 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 answer that you want me to…

Oh well.

Now when I talk to God,

I know he'll understand.

"Stick by me,

I'll be your guiding hand."

"Don't ask me what I think of you;

I might not give the answer that you want me to."

Oh well…