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
And takes a moment to watch the view
From a window nobody knows is there
He can see 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
And when I speak to this faded canvas
it tells me I have no need words anyway"
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 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 man of colours"
