FLORENCE:
How many women would drive themselves crazy
By arguing over a game of chess?
Not very many — the way things are going
There’ll soon be one less!
FREDDIE:
Don’t believe you, sweetie pie —
FLORENCE:
Listen, Freddie — I too had ambitions
How did I get waylaid?
How can such a flower
A sensitive soul, a delicate child
Wind up as a nursemaid
Respectably set for the glittering prizes
Instead of which I landed you —
FREDDIE:
You’ll get your prizes!
I’m ninety percent of the way to the top of the heap.
FLORENCE:
Thanks — ten percent — you got me cheap.
FREDDIE:
No, no, Florence — I mean we are ninety percent of the way —
FLORENCE:
How many women — articulate women
With something to shout about —
Spend their time
Playing a game in which silence is golden
And speaking a crime?
FREDDIE:
Maybe if he moved his king….
FLORENCE:
All of my struggles for qualifications —
My nights with Goethe and Proust
Recklessly abandoned
For you who thinks Chekhov is king to G3
And Joyce my college roommate!
But then when I show you a move you can’t fathom
I have to admit it feels great —
FREDDIE:
Great news for chess fans!
Yeah, that’s how he did it — yeah, that’s how the Communist
Plays!
FLORENCE:
Maybe I deserve a raise.