THE CROWSROADS • 3923706803 / 3404582812 • thecrowsroadsdate@gmail.com

TOMORROW TURNS THE PAGE

Walking in the rain, stumbling in the leaves
Sometimes it’s so hard to face it all
Feeling like a fool, a victim of the rules
It gets so hard you just want to stay alone
And you sit back in your chair, smoke rings in the air
And think about the bottle gone dry and the strain for mules you’ve still got to bear
You sit back in your chair
And you dream of something better somewhere

But there’s a hole in every cage
There’s a door at the end of every maze
There’s a harbor around the corner of every place
And tomorrow turns the page

You’ve tried to read a book, you’ve tried to take a look
At your city’s streets, you’ve tried to call your friends
Now you gamble and you drink, you find out how it feels
To fill your emptiness with solid rock
And you sit back in your chair, smoke rings in the air
And think about the breakable lies and the pieces of glass that fall to your feet
And think about the bottle gone dry and the strain for mules you’ve still got to bear

But there’s a hole in every cage
There’s a door at the end of every maze
There’s a harbor around the corner of every place
And tomorrow turns the page

You sit back in your chair, smoke rings in the air
And think about the bottle gone dry and the strain for mules you’ve still got to bear
And think about the bottle gone dry and the strain for mules you’ve still got to bear
And think about the bottle gone dry and the strain for mules you’ve still got to bear

But there’s a hole in every cage
There’s a door at the end of every maze
There’s a harbor around the corner of every place
And tomorrow turns the page

Click here for the translation in Italian

Walking in the rain, stumbling over leaves
Sometimes it's so hard to deal with everything
Feeling like a fool, a victim of the rules
Everything gets so hard that you just want to be alone
And you throw yourself onto the chair, smoke rings in the air
And you think about the bottle that's now empty and the mule-like toil that still awaits you
You throw yourself onto the chair
And you dream of something better, somewhere

But there's a hole in every cage
There's a door at the end of every maze
There's a safe harbor around the corner from every place
And every day is a new page

You tried to read a book, you tried to take a look
At the streets of your city, you tried to call your friends
Now you risk it all, and drink, and understand what it's like
To fill your own emptiness with the hardest rock
And you throw yourself onto the chair, smoke rings in the air
And you think about the lies that shatter and the pieces of glass that fall at your feet
And you think about the bottle that's now empty and the mule-like toil that still awaits you

But there's a hole in every cage
There's a door at the end of every maze
There's a safe harbor around the corner from every place
And every day is a new page

And you throw yourself onto the chair, smoke rings in the air
And you think about the bottle that's now empty and the mule-like toil that still awaits you
And you think about the bottle that's now empty and the mule-like toil that still awaits you
And you think about the bottle that's now empty and the mule-like toil that still awaits you

But there's a hole in every cage
There's a door at the end of every maze
There's a safe harbor around the corner from every place
And every day is a new page

THE CROWSROADS • 3923706803 / 3404582812 • thecrowsroadsdate@gmail.com