Зомби апокалипсис. - И.А. Гончаров. Обломов. Часть 2. Глава 4 - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

... eternal running around, the eternal game of cracked passions, especially greed, interrupting each other's roads, gossip, gossip, clicks to each other, this is looking back from head to toe; You listen to what they are talking about, so your head will spin, you will fool around ... Boredom, boredom, boredom! .. Where is the person? Where is its integrity? Where did he disappear, as he was exchanged for every trifle? .. You look, where is the center, near which all this rotates: there is no, there is nothing deep, touching the living. All these are dead people, sleeping people, worse than me these members of the light and society! What drives them in life? Here they do not lie, but scurry every day, like flies, back and forth, but what's the point? .. Isn't that the dead? Don't they sleep all their lives sitting? The more guilty of them, lying at home and without infecting the heads of triples and vaults? .. Every day, an empty shuffling of days! .. Gathered for lunch, for the evening, as an office, without fun, it’s cold to boast of a cook, salon, and a salon, and a salon, and a salon, and a salon, and Then ridicule at hand, put the leg one to another ... neither sincere laughter, nor a glimpse of sympathy! .. Why will I learn, what will I divert? .. Everyone is infected from each other with some painful care, longing, painfully looking for something . And the good of truth, good to themselves and others - no, they turn pale with the success of a comrade. One care: tomorrow in a present place to go in, the fifth year is stretching, the nasty side is overcome, and he has one thought in his head for five years, one desire: to knock down the other and on his fall to build the building of his well -being ... This yellow The gentleman with glasses ... stuck to me: did I read the speech of some deputy, and my eyes stared at me when I said that I did not read newspapers. And he went about Ludovica-Fillip, as if he had his own father ... Under this comprehensiveness lies the emptiness, the lack of sympathy for everything! And to choose a modest, labor path and walk along it, breaking a deep track is boring, imperceptibly; There, omnipotence will not help and there is no one to let dust into the eyes.