A hymn for early in the morning, before breakfast. Before testosterone, if possible. Only the Goulet version captures the proper transmasculine vim: Accept no substitutes, and listen to no version sung by anyone born after 1950. What! Why such pulled and downcast faces? Have men disappointed you? Faint hearts! God permitted these failures only to serve as a more remarkable background for my success! Watch me, Mom, watch me –
ugh two of my fave musicals, this is the shit