Malcolm Bauld - Journalist Lyrics

An old set of paints and an empty room
I wrote out the names of the cities I'd been to
Bright colours at the top of each complete page
I filled in the margins and remembered your face
It seemed like I was passing time
But later on I re-read every line
And it all came back, it all came back
I read it and it all came back
That summer in Oakland in '95
When we marched in the streets to keep a poet alive
Ducked into the houses when they cut us off
For overturning dumpsters and setting it all off
It seemed like I was passing time
But later on I re-read every line
And it all came back, it all came back
I read it and it all came back
Something in my new routine has numbed my memory
But these pages resonated deep inside of me
Now I burst at the seams and convince these dirty streets
To come warm my bones, bring conviction back to me
It seemed like I was passing time
But later on I re-read every line
And it all came back, it all came back
I read it and it all came back