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.