To: The King of Pop

Michael Jackson was before my time, but lest I miss the boat completely, I checked out some of his stuff on YouTube tonight. After watching him own the stage, and listening to a little Billie Jean, these words came out.

I mean no harm, and excuse the juvenile obviousness.

To: The King of Pop
(She says I am the one)
(She says I am the one)

You were standing on the top of Babel
Face pointing up toward the sky
A fedora tipped on your pointed visage
Millions to turn you to white
You had made this screaming tower
With the skills of your gloved hand
A Ferris wheel, a sequined jacket
Glittered full in Neverland

(She says I am the one)
(She says I am the one)

But even now at the top of the worship
The tallest tower is not so high
They cheer and writhe, they crow and love you
They wither yet, you sink and die
For up you go, on the steepest Babel
With sound-strung walls, with room to fly
But even when you stretch the farthest
Your well-built Babel can't touch the sky

(She says I am the one)
(She says I am the one)

(Maybe you're not the one.)


Michael Jackson does the moonwalk
And another version...hmm