Drifter

by Hell Mary

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1.
00:56
2.
01:41
3.
01:00
4.
01:05
5.
01:28
6.
03:43

about

Mixed and Mastered by Kevin Carafa.
Recorded in Sept ’13 by James R. Theesfeld and Sean Farrelly.
Special thanks to Tom Fett and Bryan Kwasnik who helped us through the process
Logo by Joey Southside.
Tree picture taken by Stef D’Amore.
Cover design by Stas Wrobel.
www.hellmary.bandcamp.com
www.facebook.com/hellmarynj
www.kevincarafa.com
bedsidemannercollective@gmail.com

credits

released October 3, 2013

Matt
Sean
Jeff
Paul
Tape out on Ride the Fury:
25 Clear (Band)
40 Gold (Band)
40 Gold (RTF)

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license

all rights reserved

about

Hell Mary West Milford, New Jersey

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Track Name: Cave In
Instrumental.
Track Name: Drifter
why can't i justify?
i've wasted so much of my precious time
solace denied
my flooded mind
exerting energy
i just don't have
my nervousness...

spits in my face as i slip away
no longer safe
no longer secure
once a drifter...

but now i'm more
now i'm more
now I'm more

i'm letting go
a few more holes
no longer afloat
embrace a future unknown
only way to grow
grow.
Track Name: Dead/Rest
forced into prisons called hospitals
remind us we're not invincible
time/money: my luxury
"put me in a diaper fill up my IV- cause that's the life I want"

*quoted line said in conversation by James R Theesfeld
Track Name: Confined
force-fed in a cage built of black and white
another day he's ashamed of what he cannot change
look beyond the feigned smile on his face.
put yourself in his place, locked away.
tame, yet enraged
it's not okay.
Track Name: Easy-Fix
agreements:
paper's not binding and contracts mean shit
signatures:
no more than scribbles on dirty napkins

we do what we want
when we want
how we want
what do we want?

cause there's always
cause there's always a way
cause there's always a way out

i'm sorry
i'm sorry- recite it like a pledge

as our feet hang over the ledge
we want to jump, but we won't
no, we won't
Track Name: Choir of One
i'm sick, so fucking sick
of repeating- repeating it
and you're sick, so fucking sick
of hearing- hearing it

you call it complacency
i prefer redundancy
how many times can you ask me?
how much you making?
where you living?
who you fucking?

it's the same old, the same mold
a tired/boring conversation
where stories are told yet nothing unfolds
and i'm stuck in the middle of the road

and i'll preach to a choir of one
(i've been preaching to a choir of one)
a trite song, for as long as it takes
to believe- believe in myself

as days drone by
and i fall shy
nothing ever complete
just done.