Jeff Wayne War Of The Worlds - Part 02 Lyrics

JOURNALIST: Next day, the dawn was a brilliant, fiery red and I wandered
through the weird and lurid landscape of another planet; for the vegetation which
gives Mars its red appearance had taken root on Earth. As Man had succumbed to the
Martians, so our land now succumbed to the Red Weed.

Wherever there was a stream, the Red Weed clung and grew with
frightening voraciousness, its claw-like fronds choking the movement of the water;
and then it began to creep like a slimy red animal across the land, covering field and
ditch and tree and hedgerow with living scarlet feelers, crawling! crawling!

I suddenly noticed the body of a Parson, lying on the ground in a ruined churchyard. I
felt unable to leave him to the mercy of the Red Weed and decided to bury him
decently.

BETH: Nathaniel! Nathaniel!

JOURNALIST: The Parson's eyes flickered open. He was alive!

BETH: Nathaniel! I saw the church burst into flame! Are you all right?

PARSON: Don't touch me!

BETH: But it's me - Beth. Your wife.

PARSON: No. You're one of them. A devil!

BETH: (to JOURNALIST) He's delirious!

PARSON: Lies! I saw the devil's sign.

BETH: What are you saying?

PARSON: The green flash in the sky. His demons were here all along - in our hearts
and souls - just waiting for a sign from him. And now they're destroying our world.

BETH: But they're not devils - they're Martians.

JOURNALIST: We must leave here.

BETH: Look! A house still standing! Come, Nathaniel, quickly!

JOURNALIST: We took shelter in a cottage and Black Smoke spread, hemming us in.
Then a Fighting Machine came across the fields, spraying jets of steam that turned the
smoke into thick, black dust.

MARTIANS: Ulla!

BETH: Dear God - help us!

PARSON: The voice of the devil is heard in our land!

PARSON: Listen, do you hear them drawing near in their search for the
sinners?
Feeding on the power of our fear and the evil within us
Incarnation of Satan's creation of all that we dread
When the demons arrive those alive would be better off dead!

BETH: There must be something worth living for
There must be something worth trying for
Even some things worth dying for
And if one man can stand tall
There must be hope for us all
Somewhere, somewhere, in the spirit of man

PARSON: Once there was a time when I believed without hesitation
That the power of love and truth could conquer all in the name of salvation
Tell me what kind of weapon is love, when it comes to the fight
And just how much protection is truth against all Satan's might

BETH: There must be something worth living for
There must be something worth trying for
Even some things worth dying for
And if one man can stand tall
There must be some hope for us all
Somewhere, somewhere in the spirit of man

People loved you and trusted you, came to you for help

PARSON: Didn't I warn them this would happen?
Be on guard, I said.
For the Evil One never rests.
I said exorcise the devil.
But no, they wouldn't listen.
The demons inside them grew and grew.
Until Satan gave his signal.
And destroyed the world we knew.

BETH: No, Nathaniel
Oh no Nathaniel!
No, Nathaniel, no
There must be more to life
There has to be a way
That we can restore to life
The love we used to know
Nathaniel, no
There must be more to life
There has to be a way
That we can restore to life
The light that we have lost

PARSON: Now darkness has descended on our land and all your prayers cannot save us

Like fools we've let the devil take command of the souls that God gave us

To the altar of evil like lambs to the slaughter we're led
When the demons arrive, the survivors will envy the dead!

BETH: There must be something worth living for

PARSON: No, there is nothing!

BETH: There must be something worth trying for

PARSON: I don't believe it's so

BETH: Even some things worth dying for
If just one man could stand tall
There would be some hope for us all
Somewhere, somewhere in the spirit of man

PARSON: Forget about goodness and mercy - they're gone.
Didn't I warn them...
Pray I said.
Destroy the devil, I said...
They wouldn't listen.
I could have saved the world.
But now it's too late.
Too late!!!

BETH: No, Nathaniel
Oh no, Nathaniel
No, Nathaniel, no
There must be more to life
There has to be a way
That we can restore to life
The love we used to know

Nathaniel, no
There must be more to life
There has to be a way
That we can restore to life
The light that we have lost

PARSON: Dear God! A cylinder's landed on the house! And we're underneath it - in the
pit!

JOURNALIST: The Martians spent the night making a new machine. It was a squat,
metallic spider with huge articulated claws - but it, too, had a hood in which a Martian
sat. I watched it pursuing some people across a field. It caught them nimbly and tossed
them into a great metal basket upon its back.

PARSON: Beth! She's dead! Buried under the rubble. Why?
Satan! Why did you take one of your own?
There is a curse on Mankind.
We may as well be resigned.
To let the devil, the devil take the spirit of man

JOURNALIST: As time passed in our dark and dusty prison, the Parson wrestled
endlessly with his doubts. His outcries invited death for us both - and yet I pitied him.

Then, on the ninth day, we saw the Martians eating. Inside the hood of their new
machine, they were draining the fresh, living blood of men and women and injecting it
into their own veins.

PARSON: It's a sign! I've been given a sign! They must be cast out and I have been
chosen to do it. I must confront them now!

JOURNALIST: No, Parson, no!

PARSON: Those machines are just demons in another form! I shall destroy them with
my prayers! I shall burn them with my Holy Cross! I shall -

JOURNALIST: The curious eye of a Martian appeared at the window-slit,
and a menacing claw explored the room. I dragged the Parson down to the coal
cellar. I heard the Martian fumbling at the latch. In the darkness I could see the claw
touching things, walls, coal, wood, - and then it touched my boot! I almost shouted! For
a time it was still and then, with a click, it gripped something. The Parson! With slow,
deliberate movements, his unconscious body was dragged away... and there was nothing
I could do to prevent it.

I crept to the blocked window-slit and peered through the creeper. The Martians and all
their machinery had gone! Trembling, I dug my way out and clambered to the top of the
mound. Not a Martian in sight! The day seemed dazzling bright after my imprisonment,
and the sky a glowing blue. Red Weed covered every scrap of ground, but a gentle
breeze kept it swaying and oh! the sweetness of the air!

JOURNALIST: Again, I was on my way to London, through towns and villages that
were blackened ruins, totally silent, desolate, deserted. Man's empire had passed away,
taken swiftly and without error, by these creatures who were composed entirely of
brain. Unhampered by the complex systems which make up man, they made and used
different bodies according to their needs. They never tired, never slept and never
suffered, having long since eliminated from their planet the bacteria which cause all
fevers and other morbidities.

ARTILLERYMAN: Halt! Who goes there?

JOURNALIST: Er - friend.

ARTILLERYMAN: Be on your way. This is my territory.

JOURNALIST: Your territory? What do you mean?

ARTILLERYMAN: Wait a minute - it's you! The man from Maybury Hill!

JOURNALIST: Good heavens! The Artilleryman! I thought you surely burned.

ARTILLERY MAN: I thought you surely drowned.

JOURNALIST: Have you seen any Martians?

ARTILLERYMAN: Everywhere. We're done for all right.

JOURNALIST: We can't just give up.

ARTILLERYMAN: Course we can't. It's now we've got to start fighting - but not
against them 'cos we can't win. Now we've got to fight for survival, and I reckon we can
make it. I've got a plan.

ARTILLERYMAN: We're gonna build a whole new world for ourselves. Look, they
clap eyes on us and we're dead, right?

So we gotta make a new life where they'll never find us. You know where?
Underground.

You should see it down there - hundreds of miles of drains - sweet and clean now after
the rain, dark, quiet, safe. We can build houses and everything, start again from scratch.

And what's so bad about living underground eh? It's not been so great living up here, if
you want my opinion.

Take a look around you at the world we've come to know
Does it seem to be much more than a crazy circus show
But maybe from the madness something beautiful will grow
In a brave new world

With just a handful of men

We'll start - we'll start all over again - all over again - all over again - all over again

We'll build shops and hospitals and barracks right under their noses - right under their
feet! Everything we need - banks, prisons and schools... We'll send scouting parties to
collect books and stuff, and men like you'll teach the kids. Not poems and rubbish -
science, so we can get everything working. We'll build villages and towns and... and...
we'll play each other at cricket! Listen, maybe one day we'll capture a Fighting Machine,
eh? Learn how to make 'em ourselves and then wallop! Our turn to do some wiping out!
Whoosh with our Heat Ray - Whoosh! And them running and dying, beaten at their own
game. Man on top again!

Now our domination of the Earth is fading fast
And out of the confusion the chance has come at last
To build a better future from the ashes of the past

In a brave new world
With just a handful of men
We'll start all over again

Look - Man is born in freedom but he soon becomes a slave
In cages of convention from the cradle to the grave
The weak fall by the wayside but the strong will be saved

In a brave new world
With just a handful of men
We'll start all over again

I'm not trying to tell you what to be
Oh no, oh no, not me
But if mankind is to survive
The people left alive
They're gonna have to build this world anew
And it's going to have to start with me and you

Yes!

I'm not trying to tell you what to be
Oh no, oh no, not me
But if mankind is to survive
The people left alive
They're gonna have to build this world anew
Yes and we will have to be the chosen few

Just think of all the poverty, the hatred and the lies
And imagine the destruction of all that you despise
Slowly from the ashes the phoenix will arise

In a brave new world
With just a handful of men
We'll start all over again

Take a look around you at the world you've loved so well
And bid the ageing empire of man a last farewell
It may not sound like Heaven but at least it isn't Hell

It's a brave new world
With just a handful of men
We'll start - we'll start all over again - all over again - all over again - all over again.

I've got a plan!

Can't you just see it? Civilization starting all over again - a second chance. We'll even
build a railway and tunnel to the coast, go there for our holidays. Nothing can stop men
like us. I've made a start already. Come on down here and have a look.

JOURNALIST: In the cellar was a tunnel scarcely ten yards long, that had
taken him a week to dig. I could have dug that much in a day, and I suddenly had
my first inkling of the gulf between his dreams and his powers.

ARTILLERYMAN: It's doing the workin' and the thinkin' that wears a feller out. I'm
ready for a bit of a rest. How about a drink eh? Nothing but champagne, now I'm the
boss.

JOURNALIST: We drank and then he insisted upon playing cards. With our species on
the edge of extermination, with no prospect but a horrible death, we actually played
games.

Later, he talked more of his plan, but I saw flames flashing in the deep blue night. Red
Weed glowing, tripod figures moving distantly - and I put down my champagne glass. I
felt a traitor to my kind and I knew I must leave this strange dreamer.

ARTILLERYMAN: Take a look around you at the world we've come to know Does it
seem to be much more than a crazy circus show Maybe from the madness something
beautiful will grow...

JOURNALIST: There were a dozen dead bodies in the Euston Road, their outlines
softened by the Black Dust. All was still, houses locked and empty, shops closed - but
looters had helped themselves to wine and food, and outside a jewellers some gold
chains and a watch were scattered on the pavement.

MARTIANS: Ulla!

JOURNALIST: I stopped, staring towards the sound. It seemed as if that mighty desert
of houses had found a voice for its fear and solitude.

MARTIANS: Ulla!

JOURNALIST: The desolating cry worked upon my mind. The wailing took possession
of me. I was intensely weary, footsore, hungry and thirsty. Why was I wandering alone
in this city of the dead? Why was I alive, when London was lying in state in its black
shroud? I felt intolerably lonely, drifting from street to empty street, drawn inexorably
towards that cry.

MARTIANS: Ulla!

JOURNALIST: I saw, over the trees on Primrose Hill, the Fighting Machine from which
the howling came. I crossed Regents Canal. There stood a second machine, upright, but
as still as the first.

MARTIANS: Ulla! Ul-!

JOURNALIST: Abruptly, the sound ceased. Suddenly, the desolation, the solitude,
became unendurable. While that voice sounded, London had still seemed alive. Now
suddenly, there was a change, the passing of something - and all that remained was this
gaunt quiet.

I looked up and saw a third machine
It was erect and motionless, like the others
An insane resolve possessed me
I would give my life to the Martians, here and now

I marched recklessly towards the t__an and saw that a multitude of black birds was
circling and clustering about the hood. I began running along the road. I felt no fear, only
a wild, trembling exultation, as I ran up the hill towards, the motionless monster. Out of
the hood hung red shreds, at which the hungry birds now pecked and tore.

I scrambled up to the crest of Primrose Hill, and the Martian's camp was below me. A
mighty s___e it was, and scattered about it, in their overturned machines, were the
Martians - dead... slain, after all man's devices had failed, by the humblest things upon
the Earth, Bacteria. Minute, invisible, bacteria!

Directly the Invaders arrived and drank and fed, our microscopic allies
attacked them. From that moment - they were doomed!

JOURNALIST: The torment was ended. The people scattered over the
country, desperate, leaderless, starved... the thousands who had fled by sea -
including the one most dear to me - all would return. The pulse of life, growing stronger
and stronger, would beat again.

As life returns to normal, the question of another attack from Mars causes universal
concern. Is our planet safe, or is this time of peace merely a reprieve? It may be that,
across the immensity of s___e, they have learned their lessons and even now await their
opportunity. Perhaps the future belongs not to us - but to the Martians?

PASADENA CONTROL: It's looking good. It's going good. We're getting
great pictures here at Nasa Control, Pasadena. The landing-craft touched down on
Mars 28 Kilometers from the aim-point. We're looking at a remarkable landscape,
littered with different kinds of rocks - red, purple.... How 'bout that, Bermuda?

BERMUDA CONTROL: Fantastic! Look at the dune-field.

PASADENA CONTROL: Hey, wait. I'm getting a no-go signal. Now I'm losing one of
the craft. Hey, Bermuda, you getting it?

BERMUDA CONTROL: No, I lost contact. There's a lot of dust blowing up there.

PASADENA CONTROL: Now I've lost the second craft. We got problems.

BERMUDA CONTROL: All contact lost, Pasadena. Maybe the antenna's...

PASADENA CONTROL: What's that flare? See it? A green flare, coming from Mars,
kind of a green mist behind it. It's getting closer. You see it, Bermuda? Come in,
Bermuda! Houston, come in! What's going on?

Tracking station 43, Canberra, come in Canberra! Tracking station 63, can
you hear me, Madrid? Can anybody hear me? Come in, come in...