Songs of the Sea

Rolling Home to Old New England

by John Fitzsimmons | The American Folk Experience

~Traditional 

Call all hands to man the capstan
See the cable running clear
Heave away and with a will, boys
For new England we will steer

Rolling home, rolling home
Rolling home across the sea
Rolling home to old New England
Rolling home dear land to thee

Fare you well, you Spanish maidens
It is time to say adieu
Happy times we’ve spent together
Happy times we’ve spent with you

“Round Cape Horn one frosty morning
And our sails were full of snow
Clear your sheets and sway your halyards
Swing her out and let her go

Up aloft amid the rigging
Blows a wild and rushing gale
Like a monsoon in the springtime
Filling out each well known sail

And the waves we leave behind us
Seem to murmur as they flow
There’s a hearty welcome waiting
In the land to which you go

Many thousand miles behind us
Many thousand miles before
Ocean lifts her winds to bring us
To that well remembered shore

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Resources & Recordings

The American Folk Experience is dedicated to collecting and curating the most enduring songs from our musical heritage.  Every performance and workshop is a celebration and exploration of the timeless songs and stories that have shaped and formed the musical history of America. John Fitzsimmons has been singing and performing these gems of the past for the past forty years, and he brings a folksy warmth, humor and massive repertoire of songs to any occasion. 

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for over thirty years…

 

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Writing help

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Fitz’s Journal

Thoughts on Common Days

The Queer Folk

The Queer Folk

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The Next Time Around

        I wonder what the years have really taught me about writing and music. I have gotten so used to preaching and teaching that I am a bit looped by the thought of writing—as in how I wrote before (or how I will claim I wrote) before settling into this somewhat...

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Close Your Eyes and See

Close Your Eyes and See

      A lot of things in life fall short of the mark, but thoughtfulness has never let me down. For some forty years I have faithfully kept journals of the wanderings of my mind—most of which is lost in some way or another, but the effect hangs on like a sailor...

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