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8 x 10 in ($40)
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It's close to midnight Something evil's lurking in the dark Under the moonlight You see a sight that almost stops your heart You try to scream But terror takes the sound before you make it You start to freeze As horror looks you right between the eyes You're paralyzed 'Cause this is thriller, thriller night And no one's gonna save you From the beast about to strike You know it's thriller, thriller night You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller, ow I'm gonna thrill you tonight Darkness falls across the land The midnight hour is close at hand Creatures crawl in search of blood To terrorize y'all's neighborhood (I'm gonna thrill you tonight) And whosoever shall be found Without the soul for getting down Must stand and face the hounds of hell And rot inside a corpse's shell I'm gonna thrill you tonight (thriller night, babe) The foulest stench's in the air The funk of forty thousand years And grizzly ghouls from every tomb (I'm gonna thrill you tonight) Are closing in to seal your doom (oh, yeah) And though you fight to stay alive Your body starts to shiver For no mere mortal can resist The evil of the thriller 'Cause this is thriller, thriller night There ain't no second chance against the thing with 40 eyes, girl Thriller, thriller night You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller 'Cause this is thriller, thriller night 'Cause I can thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try Thriller (ooh-ooh), thriller night So let me hold you tight and share a Killer, thriller, killer, thriller here tonight 'Cause this is thriller, thriller night Girl, I can thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try Thriller (ooh-ooh), thriller night So let me hold you tight and share a killer, thriller, ow ‘Thriller’ by Michael Jackson Songwriters: Rod Temperton / Ulrich Gilles Schadeck
Print:Giclee on Fine Art Paper
Size:8 W x 10 H x 0.1 D in
Size with Frame:13.25 W x 15.25 H x 1.2 D in
Frame:White
Ready to Hang:Yes
Packaging:Ships in a Box
Delivery Time:Typically 5-7 business days for domestic shipments, 10-14 business days for international shipments.
Handling:Ships in a box. Art prints are packaged and shipped by our printing partner.
Ships From:Printing facility in California.
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I’m (I am?) a self-taught artist, originally from the north suburbs of Chicago (also known as John Hughes' America). Born in 1984, I started painting in 2017 and began to take it somewhat seriously in 2019. I currently reside in rural Montana and live a secluded life with my three dogs - Pebbles (a.k.a. Jaws, Brandy, Fang), Bam Bam (a.k.a. Scrat, Dinki-Di, Trash Panda, Dug), and Mystique (a.k.a. Lady), and five cats - Burglekutt (a.k.a. Ghostmouse Makah), Vohnkar! (a.k.a. Storm Shadow, Grogu), Falkor (a.k.a. Moro, The Mummy's Kryptonite, Wendigo, BFC), Nibbler (a.k.a. Cobblepot), and Meegosh (a.k.a. Lenny). Part of the preface to the 'Complete Works of Emily Dickinson helps sum me up as a person and an artist: "The verses of Emily Dickinson belong emphatically to what Emerson long since called ‘the Poetry of the Portfolio,’ something produced absolutely without the thought of publication, and solely by way of expression of the writer's own mind. Such verse must inevitably forfeit whatever advantage lies in the discipline of public criticism and the enforced conformity to accepted ways. On the other hand, it may often gain something through the habit of freedom and unconventional utterance of daring thoughts. In the case of the present author, there was no choice in the matter; she must write thus, or not at all. A recluse by temperament and habit, literally spending years without settling her foot beyond the doorstep, and many more years during which her walks were strictly limited to her father's grounds, she habitually concealed her mind, like her person, from all but a few friends; and it was with great difficulty that she was persuaded to print during her lifetime, three or four poems. Yet she wrote verses in great abundance; and though brought curiosity indifferent to all conventional rules, had yet a rigorous literary standard of her own, and often altered a word many times to suit an ear which had its own tenacious fastidiousness." -Thomas Wentworth Higginson "Not bad... you say this is your first lesson?" "Yes, but my father was an *art collector*, so…"
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