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"
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