There's a noise upstairs in the attic
It's the shuffle of worn out shoes
And the scent of the oil and [bad word] 
Drifts down like a pale perfume

And he says, "I, I am a man
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 [bad word] 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
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
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
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...
man of colours"