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It is morning in a Manhattan disco, and Michael Jackson — who owns perhaps the most scrutinized face in America — is smiling warily for a roomful of strangers. Jackson has come to New York for two weeks of near–continuous hubbub, which will include three sold–out concerts at Madison Square Garden and highly anticipated appearances on the thirtieth annual Grammy Awards program (his first televisión performance since the 1983 Motown 25 show) and at a benefit cena for the United Negro College Fund. This morning, though, he is performing the one chore that he reportedly dreads most —...

There's a ghost down in the hall
There's a ghoul under the bed
There's something in the walls
There's blood up on the stairs
And it's floating through the room
And there's nothing I can see
And I know that that's the truth
Because now it's onto me

I don't understand it
Hey!
I don't understand it!
Aaow!

There's a tappin' in the floor
There's a creak behind the door
There's a rocking in the chair
But there's no-one sitting there
There's a ghostly smell around
But nobody to be found
And a coughin' and a yawnin'
Where a restless soul is going

Don't understand it
Hey!
Don't understand it
Hey.

And who gave tu the right...

She was más like a beauty
queen from a movie scene
I dicho don't mind, but what do
you mean I am the one
Who will dance on the floor in
the round
She dicho I am the one will
dance on the floor in the
round

She told me her name was
Billie Jean, as she caused
a scene
Then every head turned with
eyes that dreamed of being
the one
Who will dance on the floor in
the round

People always told me be
careful of what tu do
And don't go around breaking
young girls' hearts
And mother always told me be
careful of who tu love
And be careful of what you
do 'cause the lie becomes
the truth

Billie Jean is not my lover
She's just a girl...