Feed Me lyrics

Artist  : Various 
Song : Feed Me



 Send "Feed Me" Ringtone to your Cell 

 







  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  








Benny Andersson, Tim Rice, and Bjorn
Ulvaeus
CHOIR:
 Morphy, Anderson, Steinitz,
Lasker, Capablanca, Alekhine, Euwe,
 Botvinnik,
Smyslov, Tal, Petrosian, Spassky, Fischer,
Karpov
 MOLOKOV:
 How straightforward the
game
 When one has trust in one's player

And how great the relief
 Working for one who
believes in
 Loyalty, heritage, true to his
kind come what may
 THE AMERICAN:
 Though
it gives me no joy
 Adding to your
satisfaction
 You can safely assume
 Your
late unlamented employee
 Knows if he wins
then the only thing won is the chess

MOLOKOV:
 It's the weak who accept
 Tawdry
untruths about freedom
 Prostituting
themselves
 Chasing a spurious starlight

Trinkets in airports sufficient to lead them
astray
 FLORENCE:
 Does the player
exist
 In any human endeavour
 Who's been
know to resist
 Sirens of fame and
possessions?
 They will destroy you, not
rivals, not age, not success
 THE RUSSIAN:

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

SVETLANA:
 As you watch yourself caring

About a minor sporting triumph, sharing
 Your
win with esoterics,
 Paranoids, hysterics

Who don't pay any 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
 THE RUSSIAN:
 Nothing you
have said
 Is revelation
 Take my blues as
read
 My consolation --
 Finding out at
last my one true obligation
 SVETLANA &
CROWD:
 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, the sweat
and tears, the
 Late late nights, the early
starts
 There they go again!
 Your deeds
inflame them
 Drive them wild, but then

Who wants to tame them?
 If they want a part
of you
 Who'd really blame them?
 THE
RUSSIAN:
 And so you're letting me know --

SVETLANA:
 For you're the only one who's never
suffered anything at all
 THE RUSSIAN:
 How
you've hated my success --
 SVETLANA:
 Well
I won't crawl --
 And you can slink back to
your pawns and to your tarts
 THE RUSSIAN:

And every poisoned word shows that you never
understood
 Never!
 SVETLANA:
 Liar!

BOTH:
 Nothing you have said
 Is
revelation
 Take my blues as read
 My
consolation --
 SVETLANA:
 Finding out that
I'm my only obligation
 THE RUSSIAN:
 Is
there no-one in my life
 Who does not
claim
 The right to steal
 My work, my
name
 My success, my fame
 And my freedom?