You hate my guts/ You say I drive you nuts
We can't be lovers anymore
So when I get back/ it's "Hit the road, Jack!
I'll kindly show you to the door"

Now it's been several days/ without your warm embrace
But there's stuff that I miss even more
It's lyin' in your room / I'd like it back soon
I just attached a list onto your door:
Chorus
Give back my soap, my Caky Flaky Soap,
My gold-pressed album of The Boss
My patent leather chair, and set of tupperware,
And my last piece of dental floss [ wooooooooooooo]

Now you may think it nutty/ to want stuff so cruddy
It prob'ly isn't worth a dime
And most of it is junk/ I bought when I was drunk
But I'm still proud to call it mine

'Cause if you took away/ My tape of Billy Ray ;)
My life just wouldn't be complete
And without Dr. Scholls'/ as everybody knows,
I git those achy-breaky feet
Chorus
Give back my soap, my Caky Flaky Soap
It's prob'ly lyin' on your floor
'Cause if you took my soap, I might lose all my hope:
That was the last bar at the store! [wooooo]

Now you can keep my keys, and cotton BVDs
You can keep my 50 feet of rope (huh?)
But you're not playin' fair/ I'm pullin' out my hair
Darlin' won't you give me back my soap??
Chorus, substitute "Tigger Underwear" for "set of tupperware"