February 24th, 2007 - The Late Stuart Davis

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Sugar BulletsAnesthesia NecrophiliaWindmills And WheatfieldsNothing In BetweenBellInventionsPenguinsAnd She WasGraceChow DownEight Days In The LotusNicola

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2002. A new live album filled with speculation and observations, joyous and energetic. Some old faves finally make the grade alongside some new tunes. Vital and uncompromising. Compelling. The most important live album released by Stuart since the last one! You must own it now!!! It cooks, it cleans, it walks your dog. No, wait… its an album. It makes you think…

Sugar Bullets

all i ever wanted was
to get laid in a haunted house
all i ever wanted was
to punch out mickey mouse
all i ever wanted was
breath mints and cigarettes
all i ever wanted was
one blonde and one brunette, so

pull that pistol, tease that trigger
make that missile blow up bigger
sugar bullets
shoot off my
sugar bullets
shoot off, shoot off

all i ever wanted was
buddha without buddhism
all i ever wanted was
jesus christ without the christians
all i ever wanted was
peace and love without the pot smoke
all i ever wanted was
porno flicks without the plot, so

pull that pistol, tease that trigger
make that missile blow up bigger
sugar bullets,
shoot of my
sugar bullets
shoot off, shoot off

baby
sweet stigmatas stain the mattress
aren’t we
skin pinatas stuffed with plasma?
aren’t we
kundalini meets karate
knock me out of my own body

(chorus)

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/sugar-bullets.mp3]

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Anesthesia Necrophilia

daddy built a droid and named it Wisdom
stuck it in a steel balloon
taught it how to spit out ones and zeros
said it’s gonna colonize the moon

i mean it, i mean it
i’m kidding

mother made an alter in the garden
out of bones and feathers
she’ll be sacrificing something
said it’s gonna change the weather

i mean it, i mean it
i’m kidding
have a little anesthesia
i mean it, i mean it
i’m kidding
dig a bit of necrophilia
anesthesia, necrophilia

but we pilgrims do forget
how a world is born
god just gags on emptiness
till It throws up form

i mean it, i mean it
i’m kidding

we get baptised in a bathtub
full of antiseptic
we’re submerged in analgesics
till we just forget it

i mean it, i mean it
i’m kidding
have a little anesthesia
i mean it, i mean it
i’m kidding
dig a bit of necrophilia
anesthesia, necrophilia

you cracked that void
and let it leak
such a pervert
playing hiding and seek

who wandered off from home
and ate the map
now beg yourself
to take you back

spitting out white noise
digging those black holes
shove that shovel
into what unfolds…

is but a laugh attack
about the fact it never happens
as the cause of all confusion
is the clues are all illusion

i mean it, i mean it
i’m kidding
have a little anesthesia
i mean it, i mean it
i’m kidding
dig a bit of necrophilia
anesthesia, necrophilia

ane-rock n’ sthesia roll a’
necro-coca-philia-cola
c’mon, c’mon you know you wanna cuz
Godhead gives good phenomena

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/anaesthesia-necrophilia.mp3]

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windmills & wheatfields

I go to Holland once a year
I fly into Schipol
Check into the Melk Hotel
unpack two shirts
Walk on down to the Red Light District
Ten blocks to the Angel Parlor
I ask for Heidi
Step into Heidi’s room
we don’t speak
She cuts off all my clothes
with a silver bayonet
Then she straps me up on a giant wheel
mounted on the wall
She spins me with her hands
and she eats me with her mouth
As I look out the window
at rows of perfect

Windmills
Rows of perfect windmills
Windmills
Perfect, wooden windmills

Heidi comes here once a year
flies into the Black Hills
checks into the Wolf Hotel
unpacks two skirts
Walks half a mile down the trail
to cabin seven
She taps on my window
Heidi steps into my room
We don’t speak
I cut off all her clothes
with a straight edge razor
She gets down on all fours
and straps on a crotch-less pony suit
I dig my spurs into her legs
I clutch my fingers in her mane
She stares out the window
at miles of perfect

Wheat fields
Miles of perfect wheat fields
Wheat fields
perfect, golden
Windmills
Rows of perfect windmills
Wheat fields
perfect, golden windmills

(Refrain)

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/windmills-and-wheatfields.mp3]

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nothing in between

There is nothing in between us when we sleep
Every night the bliss begins to leak
Nothing in between us when we laugh
it’s something that our head will never grasp
It’s seen in between

There’s nothing in between your joy and mine
It’s all a lot of nectar on the vine
Joy is how my parents were entwined
and there’s nothing in between their lives and mine
We’ve seen

There’s nowhere to hide in the open Reality
Love is so wide, there isn’t a boundary
There is only one eye without any enemy
when you’ve seen in between

There’s nothing in between our skin and light
Nothing in between the wind and kite
Nothing in between our lips and grace
Nothing in between the tongue and taste
It’s seen

(Refrain)

There is nothing in between you and I
Nothing in between blue and sky
Nothing in between us and love
Nothing in between wings and doves

(Refrain)

There is nothing
in between

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/nothing-in-between.mp3]

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Bell

I discovered another ear
when aja
rang the bell in your throat

I discovered another eye
when aja
lit the wick in your skin

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/bell.mp3]

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Inventions

When I work on my inventions
I use rubber bands and glue
When I work on my inventions
I cut some things in two
Take a peek
but keep it secret

Almost done with my invention
but I need a volunteer
When I work on my inventions
I have to plug my ears
But who said science
is quiet?

Put your hand inside the jar
Goddammit I’m in charge
Keep those wires in your mouth
don’t spit ’em out
I’m inventing what will be
the thing that tells me
what invented me

I’m not nice to my inventions
when they are not nice to me
You don’t know about invention
so shut up
I guess some of my inventions
don’t want sleep and don’t want food
I love all of my inventions
Why don’t they love me?
I love all of my inventions
but they don’t love me
Do they, kittie?
Do they, kittie?

Put your hand inside the jar
Goddammit, I’m in charge
Keep those wires in your mouth
Don’t spit ’em out
I’m inventing what will be
the thing that tells me
what invented me

What invented me?
someone tell me
what invented me
I must discover
what invented me?

So put my hand inside the jar
Flip the switch and boost the charge
Keep those wires in my mouth
Don’t let ’em out
This discovery will be
the one that tells me
what invented me

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/inventions.mp3]

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Penguins

I’m just another penguin
squirming in my tux
I’m dancing with your mom
she says that I’m a klutz

I’m drinking with your dad
like all the groomsmen are
I’m getting sorta tipsy
there is an open bar

And they pass me the microphone so I can make a toast
Everybody catches you staring at a ghost
Cuz you’re afraid that I’ll blurt out
The man I love is married now

But I can keep a secret
We only did it once
I know you want to forget it
You say how you were drunk

And you don’t want your closet
Making too much noise
And you were just exploring
Boys will be boys

So maybe when I leave here we can put it all aside
But before I do, I want to kiss the bride

Cuz I just have to see her face
when I say that I share her taste in men

You’re just another penguin
squirming in your tux
You’re dancing with your mom
she says that you’re a klutz

Cuz you dance like, there’s always, someone behind you
And there is but, your family is deaf, dumb and blind, blind

You’re just another penguin
squirming in your tux

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/penguins.mp3]

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And She Was

And she was lying in the grass
And she could hear the highway breathing
And she could see a nearby factoryBR> She’s making sure she is not dreaming
See the lights of a neighbor’s house,BR> Now she’s starting to rise
Take a minute to concentrate
And she opens up her eyes

The world was moving and she was right there with it (and she was)
The world was moving she was floating above it (and she was) and she was

And she was drifting through the backyard
And she was taking off her dress
And she was moving very slowly
Rising up above the earth
Moving into the universe
Drifting this way and that
Not touching ground at all
Up above the yard

CHORUS

She was glad about it… no doubt about it
She isn’t sure where she’s gone
No time to think about what to tell them
No time to think about what she’s done
And she was

And she was looking at herself
And things were looking like a movie
She had a pleasant elevation
She’s moving out in all directions

CHORUS

Joining the world of missing persons (and she was)
Missing enough to feel alright (and she was)

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/and-she-was.mp3]

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Grace

Grace comes home drunk
And beats on the door to my gut
I fumble with locks til a wound opens
And she falls in laughing

Honey, I’m home
Honey, I’m home

I wince as she stumbles up my spine
And leaves a trail of bruises on my ribs
I choke on her dancing on my tongue
Where she kicks out a tooth

Honey, I’m home
Honey, I’m home

She smokes her cigarettes inside my head
And blows all the smoke into my eyes
Til one melts a tear and she sighs,
Just what I thought
Another fragile buddha

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/grace.mp3]

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Chow Down

look at all the architecture
i love to touch the textures
of all the mortar mixtures
look at all the architecture

no one loves it more than me
that’s why i have to set it free
’cause i feel the buildings weeping
i hear the brickwork screaming
it’s in such misery
that’s why it’s begging me
chow down, chow down the buildings
chow down, chow down the buildings

look at all the sculptures
think of all the untold tortures
feels like a loud lament
from all the monuments
no one else can hear them cry
when they suffer so do i
’cause i feel the statues weeping
i hear the granite screaming
it’s in such misery
that’s why it’s begging me

i like to lick the paintings
i wanna taste their pain
why the paintings have to hurt
lord, give me the strength to do my work
’cause i feel the paintings weeping
i hear the canvas screaming
it’s in such misery
that’s why it’s begging me
chew through, chew through the paintings
suck up, suck up the statues
chow down, chow down the buildings

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/chow-down.mp3]

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Eight Days in the Lotus

There’s a lot of different kinds of Buddhism,
of particular interest is this one
When your teacher’s think you’re nearing a breakthrough in conciousness
they make you sit totally still, for eight days, with big sticks ready
and if you move even the smallest amount, they beat you!

Be still Buddha, they’ll beat you
Be still Buddha, they’ll beat you
Eight days in the lotus, meditating fast
If you lose your Buddha, the monks’ll kick your ass

I heard about this and I thought of my monastary sized walk in closet
and that Bending Branches hockey stick I keep in there
“I can do this,” I thought, “I would have to do both jobs, but I could synchronize,”

Be still Buddha, I’ll beat you
Be still Buddha, I’ll beat you
Eight days in the lotus, meditating fast
if I lose your Buddha, I’ll kick my ass

I’ll tell you something… it works!
I’m officially Enlightened!
‘Cause for eight days I sat in that walk-in closet and I held the posture,
legs fell asleep and muscles cramped up, but if i moved even the smallest amount,
I’d beat myself with that Bending Branches hockey stick

Like… like… like I was in the Stanley Cup Finals
going one on one with the Shiva
Looks like a break away in overtime,
slapshot from the Blue Line
Davis scores, enlightenment wins

Eight days in the lotus, mediatating fast
if I lose my Buddha…
Eight days in the lotus (Davis shoots!) meditating fast (enlighteneent wins!)
if I lose my Buddha…

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/8-days-in-the-lotus.mp3]

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nicola

we rattle a gateless gate
and push against a weightless weight
looking for a stateless state
Nicola

Whatever love creates
love erases
they’re only twins
with different faces
fallen from the womb
risen from the tomb
carried in perfume
Nicola

All the ones alive today
are the ones that passed away
are the ones on the way
Nicola

Whatever love takes
love replaces
as all these twins
with different faces
fallen from the womb
risen from the tomb
carried in perfume
Nicola

[audio:http://www.dreamusher.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/sounds/late stuart davis/nicola.mp3]

All Songs © Copyright 1992-2004 Stuart Davis

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