***Songs To While The Time By- The Roots Is The Toots- Van Morrison’s Into The Mystic…

… and for the tenth time he (or she, provide your own pronoun) worried himself sick, worried that she would not be there when he got back, not out of spite, not out of hubris (what did she know of hubris, and of gods, or Greeks for that matter) but just that she was like the wind, had come in like the wind. Had come in all flowing reddish hair (reddish brown she called it), peasant dress, cowboy boots (or whatever you called the ones with the pointed toes) and took a fancy (quaint, her term) to him. And he, delighted, delighted in that misty foghorn Frisco night back when all things were possible, when everybody, everyone, swore they were going to create that newer world they had been jabbering about for so long, had delighted in her breeze, her coming in like the wind. But now, now the bloom had wilted some, and he had the frets, and should he call her before the ship came into port or just go to her place. Yeah, he fretted…

A YouTube clip to give some flavor to this subject.

Over the past several years I have been running an occasional series in this space of songs, mainly political protest songs, you know The Internationale, Union Maid, Which Side Are You On, Viva La Quince Brigada, Universal Soldier, and such entitled Songs To While The Class Struggle By. This series which could include some protest songs as well is centered on roots music as it has come down the ages and formed the core of the American songbook. You will find the odd, the eccentric, the forebears of later musical trends, and the just plain amusing here. Listen up-Peter Paul Markin

 

 

 

"Into The Mystic"

We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun
Ere the bonnie 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 the fog horn blows I want to hear it
I don't have to fear it

And I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
And magnificently we will flow into the mystic

When that fog horn blows you know I will be coming home
And when that fog horn whistle blows I got to hear it
I don't have to fear it

And I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
And together we will flow into the mystic
Come on girl...

Too late to stop now...