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