71-41-11 Video (MV)

As the mourning Son ascends
All I think of is the ending
Did it fade or was it sudden?
I know it's pointless on deciding

And through the past your face is filled
The difference seems untrue
You were a shadow of the man you once were
Now every morning I see you

I seem to replicate events
A generation faded copy
Three decades apart of memories cherished in granite
Seventy one, Forty-one, Eleven

And your eyes clouded yellow from blue
The socks still have their holes
Yet you're not here to fill them with your sole
So I place your own on mine

Your footsteps always a size different to fill
Now I create my own but without yours

And your presence overseeing
My children keep on playing
In the parkland there's a drought
In the parkland I will shout
Seventy one, Forty-one, Eleven
Seventy one, Forty-one, Eleven
Seventy one, Forty-one, Eleven
Seventy one, Forty-one, Eleven
Seventy one, Forty-one, Eleven