In the cold light of a motel morning
but still drips from the awning
And you find yourself staring at the broken
Yawning, you gotta trust your feelings
Then the handle of the phone,
It's six o 'clock outside,
the cars already seem like cattle
You gotta trust your feelings
You gotta trust your feelings
Like a dark spy from when
The sparkling dust orbits on the air
Without that crack of morning sun
You wouldn't even know it's there
Nor every little nagging bright idea
That lies like rhyme at the back of your mind
The grape will still get rye, and the cod
They're both heading for the platter
You gotta trust your feelings
The long night will always come
Hold tight when you fall out the other side
The window of truth opens
And you find yourself concerned with
what everybody else reckons
You gotta trust your feelings