(Brenda Kahn/Jeff Buckley)
From the 1994 Brenda Kahn promotional EP King of Cairo and the 1996 Brenda Kahn album Destination Anywhere.

 
In the faith salons they do your nails for fifteen dimes a bottle, where 
someone in the darkness waits for your arrival.  In the Faith Salons the 
deals are struck, making heroes out of dust and clay.  The man gives you 
sixty seconds on the dollar, and walks away.  In the middle of your book 
of ages you write your dreams down to the letter.  Tired of second 
chances and singles dances.  Her robes were purple velvet feeling like 
the king of Cairo.  Prisoners to fools and slaves to paper gods.  In the 
faith salons....The books of massacres and natural disasters, beguiled by 
belligerence learned from the dancing masters.  The child on the train 
was a mimic mime of babble.  The mother knitted sweaters that the child 
would unravel.  In the faith salons....They have medicines for madness, 
madness caused by drugs, something for your headache and a spray to kill 
the bugs.  You walk the catwalk of polyphony, And your charades of 
destiny.  To whose myth of creation will you finally fall upon your knees 
and cry for forgiveness denied.  In the faith salons....She'd appear like 
a belligerrent ghost in my dreams, in my living room, all torn apart and 
blue, where the ribbons flew and the sky tore like a sheet of rain, of 
dust.  Peace is a distant mirage where the only truth is the path and 
chance the only landmark in the desert.  Sleeping in doorways.  
Underneath the falling frescoes, She'd say, It's your pain.  In the faith 
salons....