Ain’t the pictures enough Why do you go through so much To get the story you need So you can bury me You’ve got the people confused You tell the stories you choose You try to get me to lose the man I really am
You keep on stalking me Invading my privacy Won’t you just let me be Your cameras can’t control The minds of those who know That you’ll even sell your soul Just to get your story sold
I need my privacy, yeah yeah I need my privacy yeah yeah So paparazzi yeah yeah Get away from me yeah yeah
Some of you still wonder why One of my mga kaibigan had to die To get that message across That yet you haven’t heard...
He gives another smile, tries to understand her side To ipakita that he cares She can't stay in the room, She's consumed with everything that's been goin' on She says
[Chorus] Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand
Everything will be alright, he assures her But she doesn't hear a word that he says Preoccupied, she's afraid Afraid that what they're doing is not right He doesn't know what to say, so he prays Whatever, whatever, whatever
[Chorus] Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand Whatever happens, don't you let go of my hand
Trying to trace Michael Jackson's influence on the pop stars that followed him is like trying to trace the influence of oxygen and gravity. So vast, far-reaching and was his impact — particularly in the wake of Thriller's colossal and heretofore unmatched commercial success — that there weren't a whole lot of artists who weren't trying to mimic some of the Jackson formula.
In a way, such appropriation is fitting. After all, Jackson himself was a borrower. He wasn't content to make a pop record or a dance record. Instead, he wanted everything, combining rock gitara with R&B rhythms, disco...