Benny Andersson, Tim Rice, and Bjorn Ulvaeus MOLOKOV: The man is utterly mad -- you're playing a lunatic -- THE RUSSIAN: That's the problem. He's a brilliant lunatic and you can't tell which way he'll jump -- like his game he's impossible to analyse -- you can't dissect him, predict him -- which of course means he's not a lunatic at all. MOLOKOV: What we've just seen's a pathetic display From a man who's beginning to crack He's afraid He knows he isn't the player he was And he won't get it back THE RUSSIAN: Nonsense! Why do my seconds Always want to believe Third-rate propaganda -- MOLOKOV: My friend, please relax We're all on your side You know how you need us -- THE RUSSIAN: I don't need my army of so-called 'advisors' And helpers to tell me The man who's revitalised chess single-handed Is more or less out of his brain When it's very clear He's sane MOLOKOV: Listen, we don't underestimate anyone We won't get caught in that trap After all, winning or losing reflects on us all -- THE RUSSIAN: Oh don't give me that crap! I win -- no one else does And I take the rap if I lose MOLOKOV: It's not quite that simple The whole world's tuned in We're all on display We're not merely sportsmen -- THE RUSSIAN: Oh please don't start spouting that old party line Yes I know it's your job but Just get out and get me a chess-playing second In thirty-six hours we begin That is if you want to win! Who needs a dream? Who needs ambition? Who'd be the fool In my position? Once I had dreams Now they're obsessions Hopes became needs Lovers possessions Then they move in Oh so discreetly Slowly at first Smiling too sweetly I opened doors They walked right through them Called me their friend I hardly knew them Now I'm where I want to be and who I want to be and doing what I always said I would and yet I feel I haven't won at all Running for my life and never looking back in case there's someone right behind to shoot me down and say he always knew I'd fall. When the crazy wheel slows down Where will I be? Back where I started. Don't get me wrong I'm not complaining Times have been good Fast, entertaining But what's the point If I'm concealing Not only love All other feeling. Now I'm where I want to be and who I want to be and doing what I always said I would and yet I feel I haven't won at all Running for my life and never looking back in case there's someone right behind to shoot me down and say he always knew I'd fall When the crazy wheel slows down Where will I be? Back where I started.
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