These are the vignettes These are the spaces These are the moons Of our creation When the sun gets in your blood When the sun gets in your blood To be a spaceship And make that turn To the only home For which we yearn When the sun gets in your blood When the sun gets in your blood You lick the salt back And taste the sound Breathe the air Until you drown When the sun gets in your blood When the sun gets in your blood A tiny earthquake That cracks the drive Through which a flower Will some day rise When the sun gets in your blood When the sun gets in your blood When the sand in the hourglass has turned to mud Then people everywhere will seek out all your love There’s no depression But symptoms rise A Sunday drifter With asphalt eyes When the sun gets in your blood When the sun gets in your blood Glued to wheels And how they turn Worn to fossils With fuel to burn When the sun gets in your blood When the sand in the hourglass has turn to mud Then people everywhere will seek out all your love Clouds make windows That frame the sky Brushed with paint And hung to dry When the sun gets in your blood The price is set And the market holds No masterpiece Unless it’s sold When the sun gets in your blood Wide the redwing And stub the toe To find the gravel We used to know When the sun gets in your blood Long to winward On feather luck I love you bird Come and pick me up When the sun gets in your blood When the sun gets in your blood When the sun gets in your blood When the sand and the hourglass turn to mud Then people everywhere will seek out all your love When the sun gets in your blood When the sand and the hourglass turn to mud Then people everywhere will seek out all your love People everywhere will seek out all your love