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"