"On several occasions, we sat in our cars by the side of the house at night, listening with widened eyes to new music accompanied by new lyrics, carried through the air by Michael’s crystal clear voice. On the evening of 22 May, several of us listened for hours as he worked on a song with a powerful bass and a rising crescendo, trying to make out the lyrics, as they were slightly too muffled to decipher. Now and again, we would hear him clapping or yelling excitedly, and when we heard the door open and the sound of footsteps, we all called out his name: “Michael! Michael! Michael!”
After we’d assured him that there were no paparazzi present, he came over to the concrete baluster railing above to chat with us, something he did a total of five times that evening, sometimes accompanied by his children.
“Oh my God, we can hear the music. It’s so amazing. It sounds amazing, Michael,” we told him the first time.
“You can hear the music?” he said, ducking down in embarrassment.
We asked him what the lyrics were, but he said he was still working on them, and we asked him the song’s title but he said he hadn’t decided on a title."