Prisoner of Gender Fascinating Aida

[Adèle]
When I was little child of maybe three or four
I looked into the mirror and I hated what I saw
I didn't like my flannel shorts, my shirt and tie and vest
I was incorrectly dressed

My regulation haircut was distinctly unappealing
But no one seemed to understand the feelings I was feeling
An outcast from a world to which I never would belong
To sum it up, God had got it wrong

[Dillie & Liza]
Got it wrong, all along, got it wrong

[Adèle]
I was a prisoner of gender, the model had a flaw
Return to sender, señorita not señor
But God wasn't listening, so I remained a lad
A carbon copy of my dad

As I grew, I tried my best to play the role assigned
But I failed 'cause when I walked, I wiggled my behind
I couldn't chuck a ball and I would never be a jock
I longed for a kaftan or a frock

I didn't follow any sports, rugby, football, cricket
I was more excited when I got a theatre ticket
And after games, the boys would take the mickey out of me
'Cause I always sat to pee