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"
