Christine:
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 her
Here in this room
He calls me softly
Somewhere inside, hiding
Somehow I know he's always with me
He the unseen genius
Meg:
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
Christine:
Angel of music
Guide and guardian
Grant to me your glory
Meg:
Who is this angel? This...
Both:
Angel of music
Hide no longer
Secret and strange angel
Christine:
He's with me even now...
Meg:
Your hands are cold...
Christine:
All around me...
Meg:
Your face, Christine, it's white...
Christine:
It frightens me...
Meg:
Don't be frightened...
