I cant help about the shape I'm in.
I cant 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.
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.
5 comments:
Beans?
Cabbage?
An overabundance of potatoes?
Stay under the covers, friend.
NYD:
...and perhaps proof of the Big Bang theory.
Yikes!
Interesting, yet dark...
Hmmm.
My husband says that whenever I approach...
Post a Comment