Brava, Brava, Bravisima
Christine, Christine
Christine, Christine
Where in the world have you been hiding?
Really, you were perfect
I only wish I knew your secret
Who is your great tutor?
Father once spoke of an angel
I used to dream he’d appear
Now as I sing, I can sense him
And I know he’s here, here in this room
He calls me softly
Somewhere inside, hiding
Somehow I know he’s always with me he the unseen genius
Christine, you must have been dreaming
Stories like this can’t come true
Christine, you’re talking in riddles
And it’s not like you
Angel of Music, guide
And guardian grant to me your glory
Who is this angel? This
Angel of Music, hide no longer
Secret and strange angel
He’s with me, even now
Your hands are cold
All around me Your face, Christine, it’s white
It frightens me Don’t be frightened