Grace comes home
drunk sometimes
and beats on the doorway
to my guts
I fumble with the lock
’til a wound opens up
and she falls in,

‘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
as she kicks out a tooth

‘Honey, I’m home’

She lights a cigarette
inside my head
and blows all the smoke
into my eyes
until she sees a tear
and then she sighs

‘Just what I thought,
another fragile Buddha’


Track Number


Recent Tweets

Upcoming Shows

Stuart is not touring at this time.

Subscribe to Latest Shows from Stuart Davis

In the Press

Davis’s music subtly sneaks religious dialogue into popular culture. Most surprisingly, the music is damn good. (Critics, you can sigh with relief.)

-Miami New Times