Control [single]

by Justin ‡ Symbol

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1.
03:21
2.
3.

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released July 7, 2014

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Justin ‡ Symbol Brooklyn, New York

With the release of debut album 'V Ω I D H E A D', electronic rocker and self-proclaimed "King of Negativity" Justin Symbol has emerged as a bold new force in the NYC alternative club scene.

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Track Name: Control
I am the king of negativity
And no one understands me
Try to cut the head
And another one grows back
I see in color and the color is black
The black reflection of society

Bah bah black sheep
Are you a control freak?
Or do you like to be controlled?
Will do you do what you're told?

Rebel rebel yell yell
Will you buy the sex they sell?
Do you like to be controlled?
Will you do what you're told?

You cannot control me
You cannot control
Track Name: Killing an Arab
Standing on the beach
With a gun in my hand
Staring at the sea
Staring at the sand
Staring down the barrel
At the arab on the ground
I can see his open mouth
But I hear no sound

I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab

I can turn
And walk away
Or I can fire the gun
Staring at the sky
Staring at the sun
Whichever I chose
It amounts to the same
Absolutely nothing

I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab

I feel the steel butt jump
Smooth in my hand
Staring at the sea
Staring at the sand
Staring at myself
Reflected in the eyes
Of the dead man on the beach
The dead man on the beach

I'm alive
I'm dead
I'm the stranger
Killing an arab
Track Name: Shooting Stars
You always said
That you would do it
You fucking coward
That if by now
You'd not become someone
You'd slam the brakes
And in the end
Though you pretend
You're still a no one
You never had it
No you never had it all along

I want to be
Part of the club
I want to feel
Their undying love
I want to be
A corpse, a cliche
I want it

Shooting Stars make shallow graves
They never ever fade away

You always said
That you would end it
You fucking liar
You had your chance
You had your time
And now you're past your prime
And in the end
Though you pretend
You're still a no one
You never had it
No you never had it all along

I want to be
Part of the club
I want to feel
Their undying love
I want to be
A corpse, a cliche
I want it

Shooting Stars make shallow graves
They never ever fade away

The fame
The shame
The blame
The games
The lies we told
The sex we sold
The fear

Shooting Stars make shallow graves
They never ever fade away

Obsession
Depression