Icehouse - Man of colours

^FmThere's a noise upstairs in the attic, ^AbIt's the shuffle of worn out s^Dbhoes. ^FmAnd the scent of the oil and brushes, ^AbDrifts down like a pale ^Dbperfume.

And he says, ^Ebm"I... I am a ^Bman A Simple m^Bbman, .. A man of c^Gbolours. ^Ab And I can s^Ebmee See through the y^Bears Years of a ^Bbmman, .. A man of colo^Gburs" ^Ab

A^Fmnd the old man rubs his failing eyes, T^Abakes a moment to watch the v^Dbiew. Fr^Fmom a window nobody knows he's there, He^Ab can see the empty street be^Dblow.

And he says, "^EbmI... I am a m^Ban A Simple m^Bbman, .. A man of col^Gbours. ^Ab And I can s^Ebmee See through the yea^Brs Years of a m^Bbman, .. A man of col^Gbours^Ab7"

H^Fme says, "I keep my life in this paintbox ^AbI keep your face in these pictur^Dbe frames W^Fmhen I speak to the empty canvas... It tells me... ^AbI have no need for words any^Dbway... "

And he says, "^EbmI... I am a ma^Bn A Simple ^Bbmman, .. A man of c^Gbolours. ^Ab And I can s^Ebmee See through these te^Bars Tears of a m^Bbman, .. A man of colo^Gburs" ^Ab7 And he says, "^EbmI... I am a m^Ban A Simple m^Bbman, .. A man of c^Gbolours. ^Ab And I can s^Ebmee See through the ye^Bars Years of a m^Bbm7an, .. A man of col^Gbours^Ab7"