So when I say I was terrible at relationships when I was younger, I'm not kidding, but it wasn't
for want of trying. This next song is about somebody who definitely isn't mentioned in the
lyrics in the last song. Because in my late 20s, I had a serious relationship that I cared about
very much, and I did my level best. And I wrote songs about it as well, and we're going to play
one of them now. But it kind of highlights one of the strange things about songwriting.
You write a song and you pour your heart and your soul into making it as true as it can be,
and then you release it into the world, and then time passes, and life moves on,
and the song just stays there, and you end up having a series of increasingly awkward conversations
with your current partner about songs that you're singing in your setlist.
Which is considerably worse if, like 2009 me, you decide that not only to write a song about
this person, but to title the ***n thing after her actual name. Thank you, 2009 me, you're a card.
But the thing is, in order to show you what I mean about not being very good at relationships,
I sat down to write a sincere love song, and instead I ended up writing a song about how
modern technology is going to lead to societal collapse within our lifetimes.
As you can imagine, she was charmed. But we're gonna play it anyway, this song's called Isabel.
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 furnace ruts and 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
Now count your blessings and breathe and count to ten
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 it'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 so the world has changed, worse or better it's hard to tell
But my hope remains within the arms of Isabel
And I'll admit that I am scared of what I don't understand
But darling, if you're there, a gentle voice and soothing hands
To quiet my despair, to sort out all of my plans
Darling, if you're there
And so the world has changed, and I must change as well
And my machines remain, will *** us into hell
And so the time will come when all will save themselves
And I will save my soul within the arms of Isabel
And I will save my soul
And I will save my soul
Thank you