I remember it all very well lookinā back
It was the summer I turned eighteen
We lived in a one-room, run down shack
On the outskirts of New Orleans
We didnāt have money for food or rent
To say the least we were hard-pressed
Then Momma spent every last penny we had
To buy me a dancinā dress
Momma washed and combed and curled my hair
And she painted my eyes and lips
Then I stepped into the satin dancinā dress
It was split in the side clean up to my hips
It was red, velvet-trimmed
And it fit me good
And starinā back from the lookinā glass
Was a woman where a half-grown kid had stood
āHereās your one chance, Fancy, donāt let me down
Hereās your one chance, Fancy, donāt let me down
Lord, forgive me for what I do (Please)
But if you want out, well itās up to you
Now, donāt let me down
Your Mommaās gonna help you move uptownā
(Donāt let me down, donāt let me down)
RIP MJ.