I Want To Tell You A Story (Words by Michael Jackson; Music by Larry Long)

Unpublished

Stayed up last night
Listened to the radio
Thinking about the troubles I’ve had
Then I realized it was kind of dumb
But even more sad
Each time that I’ve gotten mad

I want to tell you a story
I want to sing you a song
About a whole lot of trouble
That’s been going on
When I leave here, I won’t be an angel
But I won’t be a devil no more

Now me, I’ve thrown a lot of punches
And I’ve taken some to
But I’ve gotten in more trouble
Then the punches I threw
And that’s why I’m singing to you

I want to tell you a story
I want to sing you a song
About a whole lot of trouble
That’s been going on
When I leave here, I won’t be an angel
But I won’t be a devil no more

Words by Michael Jackson
Music by Larry Long
Copyright Larry Long Publishing 1975; renewed 2025 | BMI

*In the mid-1970’s I worked at a Volunteers of America juvenile detention center along the shores of Mille Lacs Lake in central Minnesota. My job was to write songs with incarcerated youth. Michael Jackson was thirteen years old when we met. He was from the Anishinaabe Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe. The lyrics to ‘I Want To Tell You A Story’ were written by Michael Jackson, which inspired me to write him a song. The following are the lyrics to the song I wrote for him entitled ’Michael’.

Michael

I met Michael when he was thirteen.
Thirteen years old one year ago today.
When I was working where he was living.
Teaching guitar to children all day.

Michael taught me a song he had written.
I taught Michael the song Anna Mae.
Which reminded him of his people.
Anishinaabe, Michael gives you praise.

“The problem with Michael,” Counselors told me.
“Is that Mike’s too big for his age.”
Looking for attention, thrown in detention
for turning his anger into rage.

Michael taught me a song he had written.
I taught Michael the song Anna Mae.
Which reminded him of his people.
Anishinaabe, Michael gives you praise.

All of his teachers, all they would tell me
was nothing but trouble that Mike would get in.
He never listens. He’s always fighting,
but me and Mike became real good friends.

Michael taught me a song he had written.
I taught Michael the song Anna Mae.
Which reminded him of his people.
Anishinaabe, Michael gives you praise.

Like an explosion, thoughts came flowing
out of his heart and into his mind.
Where Michael gathered fruits of anger.
Out came a song in pretty good rhyme.

Michael taught me a song he had written.
I taught Michael the song Anna Mae.
Which reminded him of his people.
Anishinaabe, Michael gives you praise.

Words & music by Larry Long
Copyright Larry Long 1983; Renewed 2025 BMI

Appears on

Listen Now

Larry’s music is available on Apple Music, Amazon, Spotify, Bandcamp and select e-tailers