Where Are We

I'm driving the car, you're reading the map

But it's upside down, as it lays on your lap

First you say left, then you say right, I'm

trying self-control here, with all of my might

You said you were good with a sense of direction,

excuse me my dear, let me make a correction

We've gone just one mile, and have been

driving an hour

Your sense of direction has left me sour

You say it's my fault that we're lost, and

your loudly starting to nag

Baby, you'd get lost in a Brown Paper Bag