Michael Jackson

Hee, hee! Ooh!
Go on, girl!
Aaow!

Hey, pretty baby with the high heels on,
you give me fever like I've never, ever known.

You're just a product of loveliness.
I like the groove of your walk, your talk,
your dress.

I feel your fever from miles around.
I'll pick you up in my car
and we'll paint the town.