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
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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"

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