The Frown Song

Tread slowly from the car to the spa
Like a weary war-torn refugee
Crossing the border with your starving child
It's a struggle just to get to shiatsu

Present the waitress with your allergy card
And tell her all your problems
And leave no tip at all
Down to the shoe store with your friends
Speculate who might be fucking the guru

Rock on, rock on, with your fashionable frown
Rock on, rock on, spread the love around
Rock on, rock on, with your fashionable frown
Spread the love around

Do you remember how we managed before
We could afford real nervous breakdowns
Or before the Anthropologie store
Was erected on Indian burial grounds

So really don't you see a little of yourself
In the bathroom attendant that you just scowled at
Or the child who's hiding inside
As you wipe the smile off the teenage barista

[Chorus]

All right

You're gonna be all right, baby
You're gonna be all right, baby

Floating back from the spa to the car
A state of bliss, and it wasn't the steam room
Sometimes life's not so bad
Now we know who's been fucking the guru