Isabel (acoustic) Frank Turner

So now the years are rolling by
And it's not long since you and I
Could have been train drivers and astronauts
But now we're stuck in furnished ruts
And yet the thing that really cuts
Is that we can't remember how we got caught
Muffled sighs and might-have-beens
Filtered air, computer screens
Count your blessings, then breathe and count to ten
And though it doesn't often show
We are scared because we know
That 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 callused 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 so the world has changed
Worse or better's hard to tell
But my hope remains
Within the arms of Isabel