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 herous 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
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 mimick mime of babble
The mother knitted sweaters that the child would unravel
In the faith salons
In the faith salons
She would look back at the turbans of the refugees in the welfare lines
Safe to say in this we are one
A stable of disenquieted admirers wasting dust, do not fear
Do not fear, there is no test for which you can't inquire
Everything you desire
In the faith salons
In the faith salons
They have medicines for madness, they've got madness caused by drugs
Something for your headache and a spray to kill the bugs
You walk the catwarlk of polyphony
And your charades of destiny
To whose myth of creation will you finally fall upon your knees and cry for forgiveness denied
She'd appear like a belligerent 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
In the faith salons
In the faith salons
In the faith salons they do your nails for fifteen dimes a bottle
Where someone in the darkness waits for your arrival
And some call it suicide, some call it survival
Where someone in the darkness waits for your arrival
In the faith salons the deals are struck making herous 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
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 mimick mime of babble
The mother knitted sweaters that the child would unravel
In the faith salons
In the faith salons
She would look back at the turbans of the refugees in the welfare lines
Safe to say in this we are one
A stable of disenquieted admirers wasting dust, do not fear
Do not fear, there is no test for which you can't inquire
Everything you desire
In the faith salons
In the faith salons
They have medicines for madness, they've got madness caused by drugs
Something for your headache and a spray to kill the bugs
You walk the catwarlk of polyphony
And your charades of destiny
To whose myth of creation will you finally fall upon your knees and cry for forgiveness denied
She'd appear like a belligerent 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
In the faith salons
In the faith salons
In the faith salons they do your nails for fifteen dimes a bottle
Where someone in the darkness waits for your arrival
And some call it suicide, some call it survival