Night.
|
Everything seems to be calm in the clinic
|
The nurse in the toilet is clamped with the guard
|
There was a sudden panic in the ward. |
Someone got worse.
|
Where is the attendant? |
Where?
|
Come on! |
A doctor is needed.
|
The dose for anesthesia was too high.
|
Change something, save it
|
It's already late.
|
Sharp onset of pain, convulsions, foaming at the mouth
|
Blood. |
Then came a furious roar.
|
They grabbed him, the doctor injected something
|
He rubbed his wet face from sweat with his hand.
|
Wakes up in the morning, let him sleep off,
|
But by this time, his heart will stop beating
|
There is a corpse on the bed. |
Above it is a circle
|
Nurse, chief physician, next to the surgeon.
|
There is no pulse. |
Nobody could help him
|
“I couldn’t,” said the doctor. |
Take it to the morgue.
|
In the morgue for so long
|
Lying idle
|
The dead don't care how much
|
After all, there is no pain, only cold
|
scalpel or thread
|
Bring your heart, and so sleep, sleep ...
|
The smell of formalin on dusty marble slabs
|
Posters, diagrams on the walls, photos of those killed, films
|
There are autopsy manuals on the long shelves
|
Sticky mud everywhere, cobwebs on unwashed windows
|
Through the threshold beaten, unshaven plump laboratory assistant
|
Enters decorously, with a dissatisfied mine
|
Apparently very tired
|
He held a magazine in his hands with a list of those who lay in front of him
|
Counted everyone, looked through, shook his head
|
I noticed a girl without legs, but with a pretty face
|
And her poor thing managed to ride in that train
|
At night, the watchman podpidnaya gropes girlish charms,
|
But she doesn't care. |
They are already a draw.
|
We need to warn the cleaning lady that the interns are coming.
|
At the sight of corpses, many turn inside out.
|
The eyes are closed. |
The cards are broken. |
Covered with sheets.
|
They silently wait for the hour when the bodies will be buried.
|
In the morgue for so long
|
Lying idle
|
The dead don't care how much
|
After all, there is no pain, only cold
|
scalpel or thread
|
Bring your heart, and so sleep, sleep ...
|
As if in the kingdom of Hades
|
He overtook like a funeral,
|
Wandered among the corpses peering into the faces
|
The pharaohs in the pyramids believed
|
That taking loved ones with you
|
Together with them they will be able to enjoy paradise,
|
And this man was so lonely
|
Forgotten by everyone.
|
Only the dog is at his feet.
|
How did you get in here?
|
Only people were allowed in
|
Throw away the dog, but the eyes of the dog are so sad.
|
Well, say goodbye to the owner,
|
Lick your fingers goodbye.
|
This is the guide of a blind man with a broken heart.
|
Here is another gone in flames,
|
Giving flesh to orange.
|
The identity was established by the teeth of the one burned alive.
|
Song get lost.
|
After sniffing the corpse, he hid in the doorway,
|
And the man left only a diary behind him,
|
And something strange in the eyes, but all peaceful sleep.
|
While your souls from the sky look at you through the windows
|
In the morgue for so long
|
Lying idle
|
The dead don't care how much
|
After all, there is no pain, only cold
|
scalpel or thread
|
Bring your heart, and so sleep, sleep ... |