Dirty Diana

The late Michael Jackson produced such a large volume of really good stuff that I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that one of my favorites isn’t exactly at the top of everyone’s list. But loving the slightly twisted and hard edged the way I do, I demand proper respect be paid to what I think might be his best work:

Michael Jackson – Dirty Diana

Oh No . . .
Oh No . . .
Oh No . . .

You’ll Never Make Me Stay, So Take Your Weight Off Of Me
I Know Your Every Move, So Won’t You Just Let Me Be
I’ve Been Here Times Before, But I Was Too Blind To See
That You Seduce Every Man, This Time You Won’t Seduce Me

She’s Saying That’s Ok, Hey Baby Do What You Please
I Have The Stuff That You Want, I Am The Thing That You Need
She Looked Me Deep In The Eyes, She’s Touchin’ Me So To Start
She Says There’s No Turnin’ Back, She Trapped Me In Her Heart

Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, No
Dirty Diana
Let Me Be!

Oh No . . .
Oh No . . .
Oh No . . .

She Likes The Boys In The Band, She Knows When They Come To Town
Every Musician’s Fan After, The Curtain Comes Down
She Waits At Backstage Doors, For Those Who Have Prestige
Who Promise Fortune And Fame, A Life That’s So Carefree

She’s Saying That’s Ok, Hey Baby Do What You Want
I’ll Be Your Night Lovin’ Thing, I’ll Be The Freak You Can Taunt
And I Don’t Care What You Say, I Want To Go Too Far
I’ll Be Your Everything, If You Just Make Me A Star

Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, No
Dirty Diana . . .
Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, No
Dirty Diana . . .
Diana!
Diana!
Dirty Diana!
It’s Dia . . .An . . .Aa . . .
Come On!

She Said I Have To Go Home, ‘Cause I’m Real Tired You See
But I Hate Sleepin’ Alone, Why Don’t You Come With Me
I Said My Baby’s At Home, She’s Probably Worried Tonight
I Didn’t Call On The Phone To Say That I’m Alright

Diana Walked Up To Me, She Said I’m All Yours Tonight
At That I Ran To The Phone, Sayin’ Baby I’m Alright
I Said But Unlock The Door, Because I Forgot The Key,
She Said He’s Not Coming Back, Because He’s Sleeping With Me

Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, No
Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana . . .
Come On!
Come On!
Come On!
Come On!…

As a lover of Pink Floyd and their song Young Lust, I think you can understand why I also love Dirty Diana. But considering the things I’m hearing about the circumstances of Michael’s death, it occurs to me that artists have also invoked the image of a woman when referring to an entirely different kind of addiction.

I want ice water.

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