When he was young, his mother used to say of him This boy will be a girl, or look as if he should And sure enough he did Each night he’d close the door, take off the sweater that he wore And put on a dress, his mother’s best And sure enough he was
Oh, Christine, tell me where you go] When all the lights are low] Oh, Christine, tell me where you’ve been] Who are you in your dreams] (Chorus)
At 17, he did not make the football team He was the substitute; he played the flute While sitting in the changing room And when the others were perusing top-shelf magazines He’d be stuck in jeans, and wish he was Miss April With the stockings on
(Chorus)
Oh, Christine, oh, Christine Christine, tell me where you go Oh, Christine, oh, Christine Do you meet anyone there I know
By 23, he’d saved the money to become A lamb led to slaughter; his mother lost a son And gained a daughter Each night she’d close the door, take off the sweater that she wore And pull up the sheet; her size 10 feet Poked out, but happy just the same