It was a musical affair she was standing in the crowd/ with a flower in her hair nothing grand and nothing loud/ she didn’t move, didn’t laugh, didn’t nod, didn’t dance, didn’t really smile but I could tell she was entranced/ stare was penetrating it was more than just a glance/ when they finished the ovation she was waiting in advance/ caught me as I’m leaving told me she’s my biggest fan/ asked if we could take a flick and that’s how it all began/ I could have hit surely if I tried to get right/ but I jetted off early got a show the next night/ new city bright lights and I’m feeling like a star/ to you I might be nothing but they all know who I are/ couple hundred messages flashing in my email/ half of them are relevant half of them are female/ one of them is titled ‘baby you remember me?’/ with an ‘x’ after the ‘me’ from a girl named Billie Jean.

CHORUS

Billie Jean, she’s not my lover (nah)
She’s a girl who love my music like no other (uh huh)
Billie Jean, she’s not my lover (nah)
She’s a girl who wants me in between her covers (uh huh)
Billie Jean, she’s not my lover (nah)
She’s a girl who love my music like no other (uh huh)
Billie Jean, she’s not my lover (nah)
She’s a girl who’s got obsessions with a brother

I opened and clicked first thing I said ‘damn!’/ long letter, two pics, girl’s bigger than a fan/ every sentence paying homage what I do and who I am/ told me all her friends and college think I’m cute and I’m the man/ thinks I’m f’ing fine and we should be together maybe if the stars aligned she would be with me forever/ cuz I’m sexy and I’m awesome and I’m handsome and I’m clever and her passion for my music wait, it can’t be measured/ wants to be my girl potentially my future wifey doesn’t mind the title but she really really likes me/ doesn’t even know me so I’m thinking it ain’t likely maybe she’s playing as a joke I’ll take it lightly/ waiting in the front row every time I visit/ calling up my phone don’t know how she got the digits/ and every text she’s sending me is getting more explicit/ now she’s telling all her friends we’re in love and she’s my missus (what?).

CHORUS

She hit me up on Facebook, hit me up on YouTube, hit me up on Twitter, hit me up on email/ calls me when I’m at work, calls me when I’m at home, calls me when I’m on road, leaving all her details/ told me that she likes me, told me that she loves me, told me that she needs me, told me I’m her hero/ Zuby on her desktop, Zuby on her iPod, Zuby on her BB, Zuby on her Tivo.

Damn/ she only knows that I’m a flow-er but her mind is so vivid seeing love when I don’t know her/ think of when I met her the encounter unimpressive didn’t know that she would turn out to be greater than obsessive/ overly suggestive, practically aggressive/ v. attractive girl but her attention is excessive/ messages she’s leaving make my girl think that I’m beating and I said she’s not my girl, but she still thinks that I’m cheating.

CHORUS

Chyeeea! Are you down with Zuby? Rest in peace to the King Of Pop.