Tears And Rain / James Blunt Á¦ÀÓ½º ºí·±Æ®
How I wish I could
surrender my soul;
Shed the clothes that become my skin;
See the liar that burns within my needing.
³ªÀÇ ¿µÈ¥À» ³»ÁÙ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù¸é ¾ó¸¶³ª ÁÁ°Ú¾î¿ä
³ªÀÇ ÇǺÎó·³ µÇ¾î¹ö¸° ¿ÊÀ» ¹þ¾î¹ö¸®°í
³ªÀÇ ±ÃÇÌ ¾È¿¡¼ ¿¸ÁÇÏ°í ÀÖ´Â °ÅÁþ¸»ÀïÀ̸¦
º¼ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù¸é ¾ó¸¶³ª ÁÁ°Ú¾î¿ä
How I wish I'd chosen
darkness from cold.
How I wish I had screamed out loud,
Instead I've found no meaning.
ÃßÀ§¿¡¼ ¾îµÒÀ» ¼±ÅÃÇß´õ¶ó¸é,
Àý±Ô¶óµµ Çغ¸¾Ò´õ¶ó¸é ¾ó¸¶³ª ÁÁ°Ú¾î¿ä
´ë½Å¿¡ ³ ¾Æ¹«·± Àǹ̵µ ãÁö ¸øÇßÁÒ
I guess it's time I run far, far away;
find comfort in pain,
All pleasure's the same:
it just keeps me from trouble.
ÀÌÁ¦ ¸Ö¸®, ¸Ö¸® ´Þ¾Æ³¯ ¶§¶ó°í,
°íÅë ¼Ó¿¡¼ À§¾ÈÀ» ãÀ» ¶§¶ó°í »ý°¢µÇ¾î¿ä
¸ðµç Áñ°Å¿òÀº ´Ù °°Àº °Å¿¹¿ä
±Ù½ÉÀ¸·ÎºÎÅÍ ³¯ ¹þ¾î³ª°Ô ÇØÁÖÁÒ
Hides my true shape, like Dorian Gray.
I've heard what they say,
but I'm not here for trouble.
It's more than just words:
it's just tears and rain.
¸¶Ä¡ µµ¸®¾È ±×·¹ÀÌó·³
³ªÀÇ ÁøÁ¤ÇÑ ¸ð½ÀÀ» °¨Ãß¾îÁÖÁö¿ä
»ç¶÷µéÀÌ ¸»ÇÏ´Â °É µé¾ú¾î¿ä
ÇÏÁö¸¸ ±Ù½É ¶§¹®¿¡ ¿©±â¿¡ ¿Â °Ç ¾Æ´Ï¿¡¿ä
±×°Ç ¸î ¸¶µðÀÇ ¸» ÀÌ»óÀÇ °ÍÀÌ¿¡¿ä
±×°Ç ¹Ù·Î ´«¹°°ú ºøÁÙ±âÁÒ
How I wish I could walk through
the doors of my mind;
Hold memory close at hand,
Help me understand the years.
³» ¸¶À½ÀÇ ¹®µéÀ»
Åë°úÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù¸é ¾ó¸¶³ª ÁÁ°Ú¾î¿ä
Àý½ÇÇÏ°Ô ±â¾ïÀ» °£Á÷ÇÏ°í
Áö³ ¼¼¿ùÀ» ÀÌÇØÇϴµ¥ µµ¿òÀÌ µÈ´Ù¸é...
How I wish I could choose
between Heaven and Hell.
How I wish I would save my soul.
I'm so cold from fear.
õ±¹°ú Áö¿Á »çÀÌ¿¡¼
¼±ÅÃÀ» ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù¸é ¾ó¸¶³ª ÁÁ°Ú¾î¿ä
³» ¿µÈ¥À» ±¸ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù¸é ¾ó¸¶³ª ÁÁ°Ú¾î¿ä
µÎ·Á¿ò ¶§¹®¿¡ ³ ³Ê¹«³ª Ãß¿ö¿ä
I guess it's time I run far, far away;
find comfort in pain,
All pleasure's the same:
it just keeps me from trouble.
ÀÌÁ¦ ¸Ö¸®, ¸Ö¸® ´Þ¾Æ³¯ ¶§¶ó°í,
°íÅë ¼Ó¿¡¼ À§¾ÈÀ» ãÀ» ¶§¶ó°í »ý°¢µÇ¾î¿ä
¸ðµç Áñ°Å¿òÀº ´Ù °°Àº °Å¿¹¿ä
±Ù½ÉÀ¸·ÎºÎÅÍ ³¯ ¹þ¾î³ª°Ô ÇØÁÖÁÒ
Hides my true shape, like Dorian Gray.
I've heard what they say,
but I'm not here for trouble.
¸¶Ä¡ µµ¸®¾È ±×·¹ÀÌó·³
³ªÀÇ ÁøÁ¤ÇÑ ¸ð½ÀÀ» °¨Ãß¾îÁÖÁö¿ä
»ç¶÷µéÀÌ ¸»ÇÏ´Â °É µé¾ú¾î¿ä
ÇÏÁö¸¸ ±Ù½É ¶§¹®¿¡ ¿©±â¿¡ ¿Â °Ç ¾Æ´Ï¿¡¿ä
Far, far away; find comfort in pain.
All pleasure's the same:
it just keeps me from trouble.
It's more than just words:
it's just tears and rain
¸Ö¸® °íÅë ¼Ó¿¡¼ À§¾ÈÀ» ã¾Æ¿ä
¸ðµç Áñ°Å¿òÀº °°¾Æ¿ä
±Ù½ÉÀ¸·ÎºÎÅÍ ³¯ ¹þ¾î³ª°Ô ÇØÁÖÁÒ
±×°Ç ¸î ¸¶µð ¸» ÀÌ»óÀÇ °ÍÀÌ¿¡¿ä
¹Ù·Î ´«¹°°ú ºøÁÙ±âÁÒ
Á¦ÀÓ½º ºí·±Æ® (James Hillier Blount)
1974³â 2¿ù 22ÀÏ (¿µ±¹)
µ¥ºß 2004³â 1Áý ¾Ù¹ü [Back To Bedlam]
¼ö»ó 2006³â Á¦ 23ȸ MTV ºñµð¿À ¹ÂÁ÷ ¾î¿öµå ÃÖ¿ì¼ö³²ÀÚ¹ÂÁ÷ºñµð¿À»ó