Mmm, mmm, mmm

I had a can full of Pepsi
In the fridge door waitin' for me
Not gonna name names, want honesty
Will someone admit they stole my drink, please?
Didn't know it belonged to me?
Know that's a lie

I keep track obsessively
Always checkin' in the fridge to make sure I see
The snacks I brought there for me
'Cause I know we've got a thief who blatantly
Ignores what I put upon ev'rything
Sticky fingers suck, better fess up to me
I put labels on food like glyphs of wardin', see
Mess with the thing and you mess with me

La, la, la
Mess with my things and you mess with me

So how will I know who's the thief? I
Did more than just stroke my name, that's right
Under that joke of "Touch and you'll die!"
Lay somethin' inert 'til fingers not mine
Grabbed onto it, soon we'll all see
Somethin' nice

Was no simple paper sleeve
It was treated with somethin' to turn fingers green
That's no metaphor, you see
I will spot the nasty thief from phalanges
That have become a lovely jade, my sting
Will work perfectly to get back my Pepsi
I take labels on food very seriously
Mess with my things and you mess with me

Lalala, la, la, la, la
Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh, oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh

I look all around and see
Only one person who's changed how they're on their seat
I wonder why that is, Steve?
Just a fluke you've suddenly sat like that? Please
And sure, there's no green on those ugly things (ugly things)
You missed that M*A*S*H ep "I Hate a Mystery"
Because labels on food can't turn your fingers green, whoa-oh-oh-oh

Labels on food mean things, where's my Pepsi?