End Game Songtext
von Björn Ulvaeus & Benny Andersson
End Game Songtext
Tal
Tal
Lasker
Steinitz
Steinitz
Alekhine
Botvinnik
Smyslov, Spassky, Euwe
Karpov, Fischer
Petrosian,Anderssen
Capablanca
Capablanca
Ah, Morphy
Morphy
Capablanca
1866, Wilhelm Steinitz
1894, Emanuel Lasker
How straightforward the game
When one has trust in one′s player (1921, Jose Capablanca)
And how great the relief
Working for one who believes in
Loyalty, heritage
True to his kind,come what may (1927, Alexander Alekhine)
Though it gives me no joy (1935, Euwe)
Adding to your satisfaction (1948, Mikhail Botvinnik)
You can safely assume
Your late, unlamented employee
Knows if he wins
Then the only thing won is the chess (1957, Vasily Smyslov)
It's the weak who accept (1960, Tal)
Tawdry untruths about freedom (1963, Tigran Petrosian)
Prostituting themselves
Chasing a spurious starlight
Trinkets in airports
Sufficient to lead them astray (1969, Boris Spassky)
Does the player exist (1972, Bobby Fischer)
In any human endeavor (1975, Anatoly Karpov)
Who′s been known to resist
Sirens of fame and possessions?
They will destroy you
Not rivals, not age,not success
They all think they see a man
Who doesn't know
Which move to make, which way to go
Whose private life caused his decline
Wrecked his grand design
Some are vicious, some are fools
And others blind
To see in me one of their kind
Anyone can be a husband, lover
Sooner them than me when they discover
Their domestic bliss is shelter for their failing
Nothing could be worse than self-denial
Having to rehearse the endless trial
Of a partner's rather sad demands prevailing
As you watch yourself caring
About a minor sporting triumph, sharing
Your win with esoterics, paranoids, hysterics
Who don′t pay attention to what goes on around them
They leave the ones they love the way they found them
A normal person must dismiss you with disgust
And weep for those who trusted you
Nothing you have said is revelation
Take my blues as read,my consolation
Finding out at last my one true obligation
Listen to them shout, they saw you do it
In their minds no doubt that you′ve been through it
Suffered for your art, but in the end a winner
Who could not be stirred? Such dedication
We have never heard such an ovation
Skill and guts a model for the young beginner
They're completely enchanted
But they don′t take your qualities for granted
It isn't very often that the critics soften
Nonetheless you′ve won their hearts
How can we begin to
Appreciate the work that you've put into
Your calling through the years?
The blood and sweat and tears
The late, late nights, the early starts
There they go again! Your deeds enflame them
Drive them wild, but then, who wants to tame them?
If they want a part of you, who′d really blame them?
And so you're letting me know
For you're the only one who′s never suffered anything at all
How you′ve hated my success
Well, I won't crawl
And you can slink back to your pawns and to your tarts
And every poisoned word shows that you never understood
Liar!
Never!
Liar!
Never!
Liar!
Never!
Liar!
Never!
Never!
Nothing you have said is revelation
Take my blues as read, my consolation
Finding out that I′m my only obligation
Is there no one in my life
Who will not claim the right to steal
My work, my name
My success, my fame
And my freedom?
Tal
Lasker
Steinitz
Steinitz
Alekhine
Botvinnik
Smyslov, Spassky, Euwe
Karpov, Fischer
Petrosian,Anderssen
Capablanca
Capablanca
Ah, Morphy
Morphy
Capablanca
1866, Wilhelm Steinitz
1894, Emanuel Lasker
How straightforward the game
When one has trust in one′s player (1921, Jose Capablanca)
And how great the relief
Working for one who believes in
Loyalty, heritage
True to his kind,come what may (1927, Alexander Alekhine)
Though it gives me no joy (1935, Euwe)
Adding to your satisfaction (1948, Mikhail Botvinnik)
You can safely assume
Your late, unlamented employee
Knows if he wins
Then the only thing won is the chess (1957, Vasily Smyslov)
It's the weak who accept (1960, Tal)
Tawdry untruths about freedom (1963, Tigran Petrosian)
Prostituting themselves
Chasing a spurious starlight
Trinkets in airports
Sufficient to lead them astray (1969, Boris Spassky)
Does the player exist (1972, Bobby Fischer)
In any human endeavor (1975, Anatoly Karpov)
Who′s been known to resist
Sirens of fame and possessions?
They will destroy you
Not rivals, not age,not success
They all think they see a man
Who doesn't know
Which move to make, which way to go
Whose private life caused his decline
Wrecked his grand design
Some are vicious, some are fools
And others blind
To see in me one of their kind
Anyone can be a husband, lover
Sooner them than me when they discover
Their domestic bliss is shelter for their failing
Nothing could be worse than self-denial
Having to rehearse the endless trial
Of a partner's rather sad demands prevailing
As you watch yourself caring
About a minor sporting triumph, sharing
Your win with esoterics, paranoids, hysterics
Who don′t pay attention to what goes on around them
They leave the ones they love the way they found them
A normal person must dismiss you with disgust
And weep for those who trusted you
Nothing you have said is revelation
Take my blues as read,my consolation
Finding out at last my one true obligation
Listen to them shout, they saw you do it
In their minds no doubt that you′ve been through it
Suffered for your art, but in the end a winner
Who could not be stirred? Such dedication
We have never heard such an ovation
Skill and guts a model for the young beginner
They're completely enchanted
But they don′t take your qualities for granted
It isn't very often that the critics soften
Nonetheless you′ve won their hearts
How can we begin to
Appreciate the work that you've put into
Your calling through the years?
The blood and sweat and tears
The late, late nights, the early starts
There they go again! Your deeds enflame them
Drive them wild, but then, who wants to tame them?
If they want a part of you, who′d really blame them?
And so you're letting me know
For you're the only one who′s never suffered anything at all
How you′ve hated my success
Well, I won't crawl
And you can slink back to your pawns and to your tarts
And every poisoned word shows that you never understood
Liar!
Never!
Liar!
Never!
Liar!
Never!
Liar!
Never!
Never!
Nothing you have said is revelation
Take my blues as read, my consolation
Finding out that I′m my only obligation
Is there no one in my life
Who will not claim the right to steal
My work, my name
My success, my fame
And my freedom?
Writer(s): Tim Rice, Benny Goran Bror Andersson, Bjoern K. Ulvaeus Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
