This is going to be hard,
She turned to me and said, in the dark,
And now my hands smell like Christopher.

I can’t go home, and it hurts to stay,
I wake every day just to pretend and play
And now my hands smell like Christopher.

I feel trapped by some people who love me,
And those who I love, hurt me,
And now my hands smell like Christopher.

I feel ashamed, for I can’t cope with pressure
But how could I live, if I cannot stress her?
And now my hands smell like Christopher.

I hold onto things which I should let go of,
Memories, letters, pink palms and photos,
And now my hands smell like Christopher.