So when I say I was terrible at relationships when I was younger, I'm not kidding, but it wasn'tfor want of trying. This next song is about somebody who definitely isn't mentioned in thelyrics in the last song. Because in my late 20s, I had a serious relationship that I cared aboutvery much, and I did my level best. And I wrote songs about it as well, and we're going to playone 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 conversationswith 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 aboutthis 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 howmodern 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 beentrain drivers and astronautsBut now we're stuck in furnace ruts and yet the thing that really cutsis that we can't remember how we got caughtFiltered air, computer screens, muffled sighs and might-have-beensNow count your blessings and breathe and count to tenThough it doesn't often show we are scared because we know that our forefathers were farmers and fishermenAnd so the world has changed, worse or better it's hard to tellBut my hope remains within the arms of IsabelSo now our calloused hands once told a story, honest as it's old, of sowing seedsAnd setting sailBut now our hands are soft and weak and working seven days a week at these salvation schemes that are bound to failAnd so the world has changed, worse or better it's hard to tellBut my hope remains within the arms of IsabelAnd I'll admit that I am scared of what I don't understandBut darling, if you're there, a gentle voice and soothing handsTo quiet my despair, to sort out all of my plansDarling, if you're thereAnd so the world has changed, and I must change as wellAnd my machines remain, will *** us into hellAnd so the time will come when all will save themselvesAnd I will save my soul within the arms of IsabelAnd I will save my soulAnd I will save my soulThank you