Tell it all. To MJJ

I hate the stuff that's digital.
But what on Earth am I doing ?
I'm falling in love with your voice.
Which is just waves which are floating.

Tell me about your childhood, how you adored your mother.
Tell me about the guitar that Tito took from father.
Tell me about your teacher whom you presented your mother's jewels.
Tell me about rehearsals right in the unfurnitured living room of your childhood tiny house.
Tell me about struggles and honouring of the  God rules.
Tell me about bus tours, how you performed with brothers.
Tell me about Chicago clubs, which were all packed and danced nights through.
Tell me about Motown, how you stood on the apple box to reach the mike, with your name written on it.
Again about Berry, Quincy, Susan  and your first solo songs.
And albums with your brothers.
Tell me about your mom, how she didn't want Bubbles at home, but then she found him  good.
Tell me about the commitment that took  the Thriller so high.
Tell me about ET, recite a lovely poem which you had dedicated to the planet Earth, remember?
Tell me about Sammy Davis Jr., about Fred Astair, about James Brown and others.
Tell me how you adore the stage and  working writing new songs.
And making pranks, and driving fast, and having fun with  friends.
And how you like creating and drawing, running, painting.
Say, how a new song comes and sounds clear with all parts, right  in your head or as you say:"It falls into your lap".
Tell firmly that we can become  anything we want.
And that you'd practice even more to make a perfect dance.
Say:"do what you wanna do, be what you wanna be".
I will listen to the most magical waves in the world...
 - to your voice.

Then tell me about the perfection, about funky sister, about brutal Joseph.
Tell me about Diana, who played the game with your love.
Tell me about Tatum, Brooke, Lisa-Maria and Debbie, about your kids if you want.
Tell me about your home
you created behind the gates - your own world.
Tell me about sick children you've saved from cancer, and those you supported who died from aids.
Tell me about the tours,
about speepless nights. Tell me about the Pepsi accident, that got you  head burns.
And the crashed fallen bridge at the show and harshly aching back.
And many hurts and Sony kicks, and painful fights and enemy attacks.
False accusations, heartbreaking betrayals, terrible rumours, courts, nearly jail.
About your victory you gained and deserved,
your full vindication of all 14 counts.
About the tabloids that wouldn't have stopped destroying your image your life and your house.
I will listen to it all.
I'll give you support
Tell me whatever you need, what you want.
Tell me about the price of it all.
You will teach me to live on my own.
Tell it if there's something at all to be told.
There's a strength and a softness and depth in your tone.
And, please, say, what really had hapened
that June night  before you  were gone?