So now the years are rolling by,
And it's not long since you and I could have been train drivers and astronauts
And now we're stuck in furnished ruts,
But yet the thing that really cuts is that we can't remember how we got caught
Filtered air, computer screens, muffled sighs and might-have-beens
Count your blessings, then breathe, and count to ten
And though it doesn't often show, we are scared
Because we know our forefathers were farmers and fishermen
And so the world has changed, worse or better's hard to tell,
But my hope remains within the arms of Isabel
So now our calloused hands once told a story honest
As it's old of sowing seeds and setting sail
But now our hands are soft and weak
And working seven days a week at these salvation schemes that are bound to fail
And I'll admit that I am scared of what I don't understand
But darling, if you're there, gentle voice and soothing hands,
To quiet my despair, to shore up all my plans, darling, if you're there
And so the world has changed, and I must change as well
The machines we've made will damn us into hell
And the time will come when all must save themselves
I will save my soul in the arms of Isabel