Клятва гиппократа текст песни
Обновлено: 19.09.2024
Куплет 2 (Nibraska)
Проще списать со счетов, чем взять в расчёты.
Где нужно на помощь звать Бога - шлют к Чёрту.
От души советуем держать этот рубеж мы.
Даже если ноги не держат, мы поддержим.
Verse 1 (MCWertX)
Corridors of this building remember . -
Soten sold at the price of pleading them,
But . how many patients could save,
If there was not that negligence behind the white coat.
Metastases in their mouth will seize the body.
And neither the scalpel nor the clamps with the solution
They will not help, if the contract is already terminated with life.
Decide to calculate the number of wounds yet,
Holding in queues for three hours dying.
No! We will not be cured, we will be bruised!
Everywhere doctors grumble, they say, "blow to Israel,
Go to America, Germany, other countries.
Money is not measured - on the feet just put. "
This is our man outlaw polyclinics,
Even and know because there is politics .
As if from the inside, they are now permeated with mold.
Progress is not medicine, but the disease is here.
White robes, Hippocratic oath. (Enough!)
You gave the floor, time to take it back.
Turn off the apparatus, because conscience has subsided.
Only the walls in the wards see it all here.
White robes, Hippocratic oath. (Enough!)
It is useless to conduct a search for the guilty. (To dust them.)
And if you are in trouble, incurably sick -
We are with you for no reason at all, remember.
Verse 2 (Nibraska)
Veterans of war and invalids out of turn -
We suffer, if it hurts, so as not to go to the wormhole
Municipal polyclinics, where the head doctor does not see
Live corpses that fell in the corridors here.
Onkobolnoy, wait until the drugs come:
Half a year, and do not care that you stayed a month
Before the death - the consultation will not give a prescription for morphine,
And the loved ones are already without strength, only surrender to sorrow.
How many ruined souls are indifferent -
Doctors who did not help anything;
At the time of the call is not an ambulance -
Every doctor has his own cemetery in the corridors.
God forbid, if you are old .
In the registry, the fool is too lazy to blow off the dust from the hospital card.
The diagnosis of "cancer" and the veteran of labor is rotting in the queues -
That's how he showed the doctor's seal to the morgue!
White robes, Hippocratic oath. (Enough!)
You gave the floor, time to take it back.
Turn off the apparatus, because conscience has subsided.
Only the walls in the wards see it all here.
White robes, Hippocratic oath. (Enough!)
It is useless to conduct a search for the guilty. (To dust them.)
And if you are in trouble, incurably sick -
We are with you for no reason at all, remember.
It is easier to write off from accounts than to take into account.
Where you need to call for help, send to the Devil.
From the heart we advise to keep this boundary we.
Even if the legs do not hold, we will support.
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