Oh Well — текст песни (Fleetwood Mac)

I cant help it bout the shape Im in,
I cant sing, I aint pretty and my leggs are thin.
But dont ask me what I think of you,
I might not give the answer that you want me to.

Oh well,

Well I talked to god, I knew hed understand,
he said son, sit by me and Ill be your guidin hand.
But dont ask me what I think of you,
I might not give the answer that you want me to.

Oh well...