There's a noise upstairs in the attic, It's the shuffle of worn out shoes. And the scent of the oil and brushes, Drifts down like a pale perfume. And he says, "I... I am a man A simple man, .. A man of colours. And I can see See through the years Years of a man, .. A man of colours" And the old man rubs his failing eyes, Takes a moment to watch the view. From a window nobody knows he's there, He can see the empty street below. And he says, "I... I am a man A simple man, .. A man of colours. And I can see See through the years Years of a man, .. A man of colours" He says, "I keep my life in this paintbox I keep your face in these picture frames When I speak to the empty canvas... It tells me... I have no need for words anyway..." And he says, "I... I am a man A simple man, .. A man of colours. And I can see See through these tears Tears of a man, .. A man of colours" And he says, "I... I am a man A simple man, .. A man of colours. And I can see See through the years Years of a man, .. A man of colours"
