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 MJ the rare album
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Michael Jackson
king of pop
"The King Of Pop"

His Extraordinary Gifts were Shared kwa All Of Us As He Excited Our Senses With muziki And Dance, As Exemplified In The epic Albums "Bad","Thriller",And The Sounds And Beat Of "Billie Jean". His Stage Presence Was Always An Extravaganza That At Times Mirrored His Daily Life. He Offered everone His muziki And upendo With a White Gloved Hand Extended Out To All! He Contributed His Time And Treasure To So Many Worthy Causes As He Truly Believed "We Are The World".

We Now Celebrate Michael's Life's Work As We Reach Out And Eternally Hold That Gloved Hand And Remember Him Forever In His muziki - He Made Us Feel So Good. We upendo wewe Michael Jackson .
It's noon, and somewhere in the San Fernando Valley, the front shades of a row of condos are lowered against a hazy glare. Through the metal gate, the courtyard is silent, except for the distant splat of a kisima, chemchemi against its plastic basin. Then comes the chilling whine of a real-life Valley girl. "Grandmuther. I am not gonna walk a whole block. It's bumid. My hair will be brillo."

And the soothing counterpoint of maternal encouragement: "Be good pup, Jolie. Make for mama."

All along the courtyard's trimmed inner paths, poodles waddle about trailing poodle-cut ladies on pink leashes.

"Not what...
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posted by mj_yana_girl
Background Info
Written kwa Michael Sembello, MJ originally recorded this song for his 1982 album, Thriller, but failed to make the final track listing when "Human Nature" was chosen instead.

It's also known as 'Circus Girl'.

It was unreleased until October 2001, when an edited version was added to the expanded, special edition of the Thriller album as one of the three bonus tracks.

Full version kwa Michael can be found on the Italian Edition of the "King Of pop - Best Of Album" released in october 2008.

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The Lyrics
She's from a world
Of popcorn and candy
Pony rides...
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posted by Beatit
Live and sigh, crying eyes
Your touch, your heart, your warmth, your lullaby
Live to dream, don't it seem
The tears, the pain, the hurt, reality


Don't wewe know these dreams, I wish could be
The real wewe and me
I come running back to you
wewe push me away, wewe push
Push me away


Darken days, please go away
The nights are bright, delight dream, and stay
As I dream loving you
Your touch, your heart, your warmth, please come true
Don't wewe know these dreams, I wish could be
The real wewe and me
I come running back to you
wewe push me away, wewe push
Push me away


Don't wewe know these dreams, I wish could be
The real wewe and me
I come running back to you
wewe push me away, wewe push
wewe push me away
Skin head
Dead head
Everybody Gone bad
Situation Aggravation
Everybody Allegation
In the suite
On the news
Everybody Dog chakula
Bang bang Shock dead
Everybody's Gone mad

All I wanna say is that
They don't really care about us
All I wanna say is that
They don't really care about us

Beat me Hate me
You can never Break me
Will me Thrill me
You can never Kill me
Jew me Sue me
Everybody Do me
Kick me Kike me
Don't wewe Black au white me

All I wanna say is that
They don't really care about us
All I wanna say is that
They don't really care about us

Tell me what has become of my life
I have a wife and...
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added by cherl12345
added by Mjking88
added by lolaskellington
Source: @artbyfernctoth
added by FanFic_Girl_26
added by cherl12345
added by mjOlik
added by GDragon612
Michael can’t sleep as he sits on his kitanda with The Twilight Zone running in the background of the television. It seems like lately, he can’t sleep and it seems to be getting worse as he gets older. His mind wanders with thoughts, fears, hopes, and of course music. Well, that’s what his mind usually is thinking about, tonight it’s about Holly. Michael can’t seem to erase the thought of them kissing each other and how it felt tonight. One thing was for certain; he wanted zaidi and it intimidated him. He looks at his watch that reads three thirty a.m. The only other person who would...
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added by cherl12345
The booming sounds of rhythmic beats pound in Westlake Studio A as holly sits at the mixing board. Her long hair pulled back in a ponytail as the mashabiki are on full blast to beat out the hot Californian summer heat wave of 1979. Even in her daisy duke shorts and tank top, she can still feel her skin sticking to the vinyl chair. As the beats go she sits with paper in front of her and writes corresponding lyrics that come to her, sometimes humming, others imba out loud. The time in her studio was her saving grace lately; especially her and Michael haven’t been as close lately, not kwa Michael’s...
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added by mjOlik