Wednesday, 18 December 2013

Oblomovka


A wee ditty I wrote about Ilya Ilyich Oblomov's dream from Oblomov. His life in the sweet homely setting of Oblomovka is but a distant dream; indolence and recalcitrance slowly replace the agency of his youth; any notion of home is a million miles away from the slovenly setting of his adult life.

Catch his light when you're far away
when I wake up; its the end of my day.
You'll see asleep when you're far away
oh dear my daydream you wont make it okay

'Cause its a long way back home
And you're a long, way, from home

A figurine of laconic dismay;
Each day in daylight is fading away
You come and see whats not on display
life stole an angel and sent him astray

Where its a long way from home,
And its a long, way, back home.

Catch his light when you're far away
when I wake up; its the end of my day.

...You may notice a similar chorus to some song or other, adapted unintentionally, for my own creative purposes.

Yours,
SiBot.


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