These are the days of the open hand.
Áö±ÝÀº ±¸°ÉÇÏ´Â »ç¶÷µéÀÇ ½Ã´ë.
They might just be the last.
±×µéÀÌ ÀÌÈÄ¿¡µµ ±¸°ÉÇÏ´Â »ç¶÷µéÀº °è¼Ó ÀÖ°ÚÁö¿ä.
Look around now. These are the days of the beggars and the choosers.
ÀÌÁ¦ ÁÖÀ§¸¦ µÑ·¯ºÁ¿ä. Áö±ÝÀº °ÅÁö¿Í ¼±ÅùÞÀº ÀÚµéÀÇ ½Ã´ë.
This is the year of the hungry man whose place is in the past.
Áö±ÝÀº ÀÚ½ÅÀÇ ÀÚ¸®°¡ °ú°Å¿¡ ÀÖ´ø ¹è°íÇ »ç¶÷µéÀÇ ÇØ(Ò´)ÁÒ.
Hand in hand with ignorance and legitimate excuses, the rich declare themselves poor.
¹«½Ã¿Í ÇÕ¹ýÀû º¯¸íÀ¸·Î ºÎÀÚµéÀº ¼·Î Çù·ÂÇÏ¿© ÀڽŵéÀÌ °¡³ÇÏ´Ù°í ¼±¾ðÇßÁÒ.
And most of us are not sure if we have too much.
¿ì¸®µé ´ëºÎºÐÀº ¿ì¸®°¡ ³Ê¹« ¸¹ÀÌ °¡Á³´ÂÁö È®½ÅÀÌ ¾øÁÒ.
But we'll take our chances 'cos God's stopped keeping score.
ÇÏÁö¸¸ ¿ì¸®´Â ¸ðÇèÀ» °¨ÇàÇÒ°Ì´Ï´Ù. ¿Ö³Ä¸é Çϳª´ÔÀº ´õÀÌ»ó ¼±°ú ¾Ç¿¡ µû¸¥ »ó°ú ¹úÀ» ÁÖÁö ¾ÊÀ¸´Ï±î¿ä.
I guess somewhere along the way he must have let us all out to play.
Çϳª´Ô²²¼ ÀÌ ±æÀ» µû¶ó ¾îµò°¡¿¡ ¿ì¸®¸ðµÎ¸¦ ¹Û¿¡ ³ª¿À°Ô ÇßÀ½¿¡ Ʋ¸²¾øÁÒ.
Turned his back and all God's children crept out the back door.
±×´Â µîÀ» µ¹·È°í, Çϳª´ÔÀÇ ÀÚ¼ÕµéÀº µÞ¹®À¸·Î ±â¾î³ª¿ÔÁÒ.
And it's hard to love, there's so much to hate.
»ç¶ûÇϱâ´Â ¾î·Æ°í, ¹Ì¿öÇÒ °ÍÀº ¸¹ÁÒ.
Hanging on to hope, when there is no hope to speak of.
¾ð±ÞÇÒ¸¸ÇÑ Èñ¸ÁÀÌ ¾øÀ½¿¡ ¿ì¸®´Â Èñ¸Á¿¡ ¸Å´Þ¸®ÁÒ.
And the wounded skies above say it's much too much too late.
»Ñ¿¬ ÇÏ´ÃÀº ÀÌÁ¦ ³Ê¹« ´Ê¾î¹ö·È´Ù´Â °ÍÀ» ¾Ë°ÔÇÏÁÒ.
Well, maybe we should all be praying for time.
ÀÚ, ¾Æ¸¶ ¿ì¸®´Â ½Ã´ë¸¦ À§ÇØ ±âµµ¸¦ ÇؾßÇÒ°Ì´Ï´Ù.
These are the days of the empty hand.
Áö±ÝÀº ºó°ïÀÇ ½Ã´ë.
Oh, you hold on to what you can.
¾Æ, ´ç½ÅÀº ´ç½ÅÀÌ ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â °Í¿¡¸¸ ¸¸Á·Çϴ±º¿ä.
And charity is a coat you wear twice a year.
Àϳ⿡ Çѹø¾¿ ÀÔ´Â ¿ÊÀ» ´ç½ÅÀº ÀÚ¼±(íÀà¾)´Üü¿¡ ±âºÎÇϴ±º¿ä.
This is the year of the guilty man.
Áö±ÝÀº ¹üÁËÀÚµéÀÇ ½Ã´ë.
Your television takes a stand.
¾ð·ÐÀεéÀº ±×µéÀÇ ÀÔÀåÀ» ÃëÇÏ°íÀÖÁÒ.
And you find that what was over there is over here.
±×¸®°í ¾ð·Ð°è¿¡¼ ³¡³ °ÍÀÌ ¿©±â¿¡¼µµ ³¡³µ´Ù´Â °ÍÀ» ¾Ë°ÔµÇÁÒ.
So you scream from behind your door, say "What's mine is mine and not yours!"
±×·¡¼ ´ç½ÅÀº "³»°Ç ³» °ÍÀÌÁö ³× °ÍÀº ¾Æ´Ï¾ß!"¶ó¸ç ºñ¸íÀ» Áö¸£ÁÒ.
I may have too much but I'll take my chances, 'cos God has stopped keeping score.
³»°¡ °¡Áø °ÍÀÌ ¸¹À»Áö´Â ¸ô¶óµµ ¸ðÇèÀ» Çغ¸°Ú¾î¿ä. ÇÏ´À´ÔÀº ´õÀÌ»ó Á¡¼ö¸¦ ¸Å±âÁö ¾ÊÀ¸´Ï±î.
And you cling to the things they sold you.
±×¸®°í ´ç½ÅÀº ±×µéÀÌ ´ç½Å¿¡°Ô ÆÇ °Í¿¡ ¸Å´Þ¸®´Â±º¿ä.
Did you cover your eyes when they told you that he can't come back.
±×µéÀÌ ´ç½Å¿¡°Ô Çϳª´ÔÀÌ µ¹¾Æ¿Ã ¼ö ¾ø´Ù°í ¸»ÇÒ ¶§, ´ç½ÅÀº ¸ð¸¥Ã´ Çϳª¿ä?
'Cause he has no children to come back for.
¿Ö³ÄÇϸé, Çϳª´ÔÀº º¸»ìÇÊ ÀÚ¼ÕÀÌ ¾øÀ¸´Ï±î¿ä.
It's hard to love. There's so much to hate.
»ç¶ûÇÏ´Â°Ç ¾î·Æ°í, ¹Ì¿öÇÒ °ÍÀº ³Ê¹« ¸¹ÁÒ.
Hanging on to hope when there is no hope to speak of.
¾ð±ÞÇÒ¸¸ÇÑ Èñ¸ÁÀÌ ¾øÀ½¿¡µµ ¿ì¸®´Â Èñ¸Á¿¡ ¸Å´Þ¸®ÁÒ.
And the wounded skies above say it's much too late
±×¸®°í Àú À§ÀÇ »óó¹ÞÀº õ±¹Àº ÀÌÁ¦ ³Ê¹« ´Ê¾î¹ö·È´Ù°í ¾Ë·ÁÁÖÁÒ.
So maybe we should all be praying for time.
±×·¯´Ï, ¾Æ¸¶ ¿ì¸® ¸ðµÎ´Â ½Ã´ë¸¦ À§ÇØ ±âµµ¸¦ ÇØ¾ß ÇÏ°ÚÁÒ.
***