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.
2 comments:
*snort* Now THAT would be a helpful birthday defect for guitar or piano!
So that's how he did it?
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