"I'm a skyscraper wean," goes the Jeely Piece song, "and I live on the nineteenth flair.

But I'm no going oot to play any mair." You won't find many weans, though, these days on the nineteenth floor of one of the three remaining tower blocks left in Castlemilk where the song is set.

Mostly the people who live there are in their retirement years: people like Jane and James Driver, both 82 years old, who live on the 18th floor in their two-bedroom flat looking out over the braes; up so high that on foggy days you can't see anything but the tops of other buildings. On days like those, says Jane, you look out and it seems as if there is nothing below you.

Mainly they only leave the block for hospital appointments, their lives kept in motion by daily visits from their daughter. But also they like to stay where they are, Jane in her armchair knitting jumpers; James out on the veranda, gazing out at the view.

In 1984 when they first moved to Dougrie Place they were amongst the youngest in the block. At that time, they recall, you had to be over forty years old to get a flat. Many of those who moved in then stayed, some even bought their flats, and it now feels like a vertical retirement town.

But, say some of the residents, more recently, the demographic has been changing: more younger people have been housed here; some with drug and alcohol problems. "The young ones are getting put in," says James. His fear is that this is the start of a process: one day these flats might be demolished. "Give it time," he says. "Before they take them down they put alcoholics and drug addicts in,"

But he adds: "They'll need to fight to knock it down. I wouldn't move."

Brian Quinn has lived on the second floor of one of the blocks for fifteen years. Castlemilk was, he says, "a great place to grow up", though isolated. "No shops," he recalls. "Thirty minutes walk to the nearest bus stop."

Built in response to the post Second World War housing crisis, the Castlemilk scheme was designed to replace the overcrowded slums of the city. But it was created, without conveniences or community hubs. Over the years urban regeneration projects have tried to turn Castlemilk around - to shift the deprivation - but even in 2006 it was ranked as the third poorest areas in Scotland.