We were born before the wind; also younger than the sun. ‘Ere the bonny boat was won as we sailed into the mystic. Hark, now hear the sailors cry. Smell the sea and feel the sky. Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic. And when that fog horn blows, I will be coming home. And when that fog horn blows, I want to hear it. I don’t have to fear it.
Van Morrison (via caryrandolph)
Van the man.
Into the Mystic