It takes all kinds to keep this world in place
It's a fragile balance that let's us swing through space
So everybody's got their job to do
And girl, I guess the job I've got is cryin' over you

And I should get a gold watch for all the years I gave
And I should get some interest now for all the dues I've paid
I don't know why I love you, it's just the job I do
I'm your registered, certified, card carryin' fool

If I was in the army, there'd be medals that I'd get
If I was in the circus, at least I'd have a net
If I was an electrician, I might could find a spark
And if I could be a surgeon, girl, I might could find your heart

But I keep bending over backwards just to be your limbo man
While you drop that stick another notch every chance you can
I don't know why I love you, it's just the job I do
I'm your registered, certified, card carryin' fool

Ah, if I was a gambler, I might have better luck
If I was mathematician, I could make it all add up
But when it comes down to it, all I want to do
Is be your registered, certified, card carryin' fool

Yeah, when it comes down to it, all I want to do
Is be your registered, certified, card carryin' fool

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): George Hill, Timothy Bays