 Jeff Wayne
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Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of The War of the Worlds
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76.40 %
(2020-02-29) |
Date released: 1978Type: studio In collection: CD (2010-01-20)Average track length: 07:58 Average track rating:  |
Ranking
Jeff Wayne:
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1
Year (1978):
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55
Decade (1970's):
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597
Overall:
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2711 |
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Tracks
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1 lyrics  09:09 | 2 lyrics 11:39 | 3 lyrics 10:39 | 4 lyrics 07:46 | 5 lyrics 06:10 | 6 lyrics  05:57 | 7 lyrics  11:44 | 8 lyrics  06:54 | 9 lyrics 12:16 | 10 lyrics 08:40 | 11 lyrics 02:45 | 12 lyrics 01:55 | Total time: 01:35:34 |
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Credits
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Artist
Session works
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Lyrics
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The Eve of the War 09:09 |
Journalist:
No one would have believed, in the last years of the nineteenth century that human affairs were being watched from the timeless worlds of space. No one could have dreamed that we were being scrutinized, as someone with a microscope studies creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. Few men even considered the possibility of life on other planets and yet, across the gulf of space, minds immeasurably superior to ours regarded this Earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely, they drew their plans against us.
At midnight on the twelfth of August, a huge mass of luminous gas erupted from Mars and sped towards Earth. Across two hundred million miles of void, invisibly hurtling towards us were the first of the missiles that were to bring so much calamity to Earth. As I watched, there was another jet of gas. It was another missile starting on its way.
And that's how it was for the next ten nights. A flare, spurting out from Mars - bright green, drawing a green mist behind it - a beautiful, but somehow disturbing sight. Ogilvy the astronomer, assured me we were in no danger. He was convinced that there could be no living thing on that remote forbidding planet.
"The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one" he said
"The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one - but still they come!"
Journalist:
Then came the night the first missile approached Earth. It was thought to be an ordinary falling star, but next day there was huge crater in the middle of the Common, and Ogilvy came to examine what lay there: a cylinder, thirty yards across, glowing hot... And with faint sounds of movement coming from within.
Suddenly the top began moving, rotating, unscrewing, and Ogilvy feared there was a man inside, trying to escape. He rushed to the cylinder, but the intense heat stopped him before he could burn himself on the metal.
"The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one - but still they come!"
"The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one" he said
"The chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one - but still they come!"
"Yes, the chances of anything coming from Mars are a million to one - but still they come!"
It seems totally incredible to me now that everyone spent that evening as though it were just like any other. From the railway station came the sound of shunting trains, ringing and rumbling, softened almost into melody by the distance.
It all seemed too safe and tranquil. |
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Horsell Common and the Heat Ray 11:39 |
Journalist:
Next morning, a crowd gathered on the Common, hypnotized by the unscrewing of the cylinder. Two feet of shining screw projected when, suddenly, the lid fell off! Two luminous disc-like eyes appeared above the rim. A huge, rounded bulk, larger than a bear, rose up slowly, glistening like wet leather. Its lipless mouth quivered and slavered - and snake-like tentacles writhed as the clumsy body heaved and pulsated.
A few young men crept closer to the pit. A tall funnel rose, then an invisible ray of heat leapt from man to man and there was a bright glare, as each was instantly turned to fire. Every tree and bush became a mass of flames at the touch of this savage, unearthly heat ray.
People clawed their way off the Common, and I ran too. I felt I was being toyed with, that when I was on the very verge of safety, this mysterious death would leap after me and strike me down. At last I reached Maybury Hill and in the dim coolness of my home I wrote an account for my newspaper before I sank into a restless, haunted sleep. I awoke to alien sounds of hammering from the pit, and hurried to the railway station to buy the paper.
Around me, the daily routine of life - working, eating, sleeping - was continuing serenely as it had for countless years.
On Horsell Common, the Martians continued hammering and stirring, sleepless, indefatigable, at work upon the machines they were making. Now and again a light, like the beam of a warship's searchlight, swept the Common - and the heat ray was ready to follow. In the afternoon, a company of soldiers came through and deployed along the edge of the Common, to form a cordon. That evening, there was a violent crash and I realized with horror that my home was now within range of the Martian's heat ray. At dawn, a falling star with a trail of green mist landed with a flash like summer lightning.
This was the second cylinder. |
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The Artillerymen and the Fighting Machine 10:39 |
Artilleryman:
Fighting machines! Picking up men and bashing 'em against trees. Just hunks of metal, but they knew exactly what they were doing.
Journalist:
Mmm. There was another cylinder came last night.
Artilleryman:
Yes. It looked bound for London.
Journalist:
London! Carrie! I hadn't dreamed there could be danger to Carrie and her father, so many miles away. I must go to London at once.
Artilleryman:
And me. Got to report to headquarters - if there's anything left of it.
Journalist:
At Byfleet we came upon an inn, but it was deserted.
Artilleryman:
Is everybody dead?
Journalist:
Not everybody. Look! Six cannons with gunners standing by.
Artilleryman:
It's bows and arrows against the lightning. They haven't seen the heat ray yet.
Journalist:
We hurried along the road to Weybridge. Suddenly, there was a heavy explosion. The ground heaved, windows shattered and gusts of smoke erupted into the air.
Artilleryman:
Look! There they are! What did I tell you?
Journalist:
Quickly, one after the other, four of the fighting machines appeared. Monstrous tripods, higher than the tallest steeple, striding over pine trees and smashing them. Walking engines of glistening metal. Each carried a huge funnel and I realised with horror that I'd seen this awful thing before. A fifth machine appeared on the far bank. It raised itself to full height, flourished the funnel high in the air - and the ghostly terrible heat ray struck the town. As it struck, all five fighting machines exulted, emitting deafening howls that roared like thunder.
Ulla! Ulla!
Journalist:
The six guns we had seen now fired simultaneously, decapitating a fighting machine. The Martian inside the hood was slain, splashed to the four winds, and the body, nothing now but an intricate device of metal, went whirling to destruction. As the other monsters advanced, people ran away blindly, the artillery man among them, but I jumped into the water and hid until forced up to breathe. Now the guns spoke again, but this time the heat ray sent them to oblivion
Ulla!
Journalist:
With a white flash, the heat ray swept across the river. Scalded, half-blinded and agonized, I staggered through leaping, hissing water towards the shore, I fell helplessly, in full view of the Martians, expecting nothing but death. The foot of a Martian came down close to my head, then lifted again, as the four Martians carried away the debris of their fallen comrade... and I realized that by a miracle I had escaped. |
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Forever Autumn 07:46 |
Journalist: For three days I fought my way along roads packed with refugees, the homeless, burdened with boxes and bundles containing their valuables. All that was of value to me was in London, but by the time I reached their little red brick house, Carrie and her father were gone.
Forever autumn
The summer sun is fading as the year grows old,
And darker days are drawing near,
The winter winds will be much colder,
Now you're not here
I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky,
And one by one they disappear,
I with that I was flying with them,
Now you're not here
Like the sun through the trees you came to love me,
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away
Through autumn's golden gown we used to kick our way,
You always loved this time of year,
Those fallen leaves lie undisturbed now,
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here
Journalist: Fire suddenly leapt from house to house, the population panicked and ran - and I was swept along with them, aimless and lost without Carrie. Finally I headed eastward for the ocean, and my only hope of survival: a boat out of London.
Like the sun through the trees you came to love me,
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away
A gentle rain falls softly on my weary eyes,
As if to hide a lonely tear,
My life will be forever autumn,
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here
Journalist: As I hastened through Covent Garden, Blackfriars and Billingsgate, more and more people joined the painful exodus. Sad, weary woman, their children stumbling and streaked with tears, their men bitter and angry, the rich rubbing shoulder with beggars and outcasts. Dogs snarled and whined, the horses bits were covered with foam... And here and there were wounded soldiers, as helpless as the rest. We saw tripods wading up the Thames, cutting through bridges as though they were paper - Waterloo Bridge, Westminster Bridge... One appeared above Big Ben.
Ulla!
Journalist: Never before in the history of the world had such a mass of human beings moved and suffered together. This was no disciplined march - it was a stampede - without order and without a goal, six million people unarmed and unprovisioned, driving headlong. It was the beginning of the rout of civilisation, of the massacre of mankind.
A vast crown buffeted me toward the already packed steamer. I looked up enviously at those safely onboard - straight into the eyes of my beloved Carrie! At sight of me she began to fight her way along the packed deck to the gangplank. At that very moment it was raised, and I caught a last glimpse of her despairing face as the crowd swept me away from her.
Like the sun through the trees you came to love me,
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away
Through autumn's golden gown we used to kick our way,
You always loved this time of year,
Those fallen leaves lie undisturbed now,
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here
Cause you're not here
Ulla!
Journalist: The steamer began to move slowly away, but on the landward horizon appeared the silhouette of a fighting machine. Another came, and another, striding over hills and plunging far out to sea and blocking the exit of the steamer. Between them lay the silent, grey Ironclad Thunderchild. Slowly it moved towards shore; then, with a deafening roar and whoosh of spray, it swung about and drove at full speed towards the waiting Martians. |
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Thunderchild 06:10 |
There were ships of shapes and sizes
Scattered out along the bay
And I thought I heard her calling
As the steamer pulled away
The invaders must have seen them
As across the coast they filed
Standing firm between them
There lay Thunderchild
Moving swiftly through the waters
Cannons blazing as she came
Brought a mighty metal warlord
Crashing down in sheets of flame
Sensing victory was nearing
Thinking fortune must have smiled
People started cheering
"Come on Thunderchild"
"Come on Thunderchild"
Journalist:
The Martians releast their black smoke, but the ship sped on cutting down one of the tripod figures. Instantly the others raised their heat rays and melted the Thunderchild's valiant heart.
Lashing ropes and smashing timbers
Flashing heat rays pierce the deck
Dashing hopes for our deliverance
As we watched the sinking wreck
With the smoke of battle clearing
Over graves in waves defiled
Slowly disappearing
Farewell Thunderchild
Slowly disappearing
Farewell Thunderchild
Farewell Thunderchild
Farewell Thunderchild
Journalist:
When the smoke cleared the little steamer had reached the misty horizon and Carrie was safe, but the Thunderchild had vanished forever taking with her man's last hope of victory. The leaden sky was lit by green flashes, cylinder following cylinder, and no one and nothing was left now to fight them. The Earth belonged to the Martians.
Martians:
Ulla! |
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The Red Weed, part 1 05:57 |
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 it's red appearance had taken root on Earth. As man had succumbed to the Martians, so our land now succumbed to the red weed. Whereever there was a stream the red weed clung and grew with frightening voraciousness - it's claw-like fronds choking the movement of the water. And then it starts 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 Parson lying on the ground
in a 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 Parsons eyes flickered open, he was alive!
Beth:
Nathaniel, I saw the church burst into flame!
Are you alright?
Parson:
Don't touch me!
Beth:
But it's me, Beth! Your wife!
Parson:
No, you're one of them, a Devil!
Beth:
He's delirious!
Parson:
Lies!
I saw the Devil's sign!
Beth:
What have you seen?
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 are 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 black smoke into thick black dust.
Martians:
ULLA!
Beth:
Dear God help us!
Parson:
The voice of the Devil is heard in our land. |
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The Spirit of Man 11:44 |
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 thing's 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 thing's worth dying for,
And if one man can stand tall,
There must be hope for us all,
Somewhere, somewhere in the spirit of man
People loved 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 know.
Beth:
No, Nathaniel,
Oh no Nathaniel,
No, Nathanial no, there must be more to life,
We have to find a way, that we can restore to life,
The love we used to know,
Nathaniel, no,
No, Nathanial no, there must be more to life,
We have to find 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 alter 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,
And if one man can stand tall,
There must be 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, Nathanial no, there must be more to life,
We have to find a way, that we can restore to life,
The love we used to know,
Nathaniel, no,
No, Nathanial no, there must be more to life,
We have to find a way, that we can restore to life,
The light that we have lost |
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The Red Weed, part 2 06:54 |
Parson:
Dear God a cylinder's hit on the house and we 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 which a Martian sat. I watched it pursuing some people across the field. It caught them nimbly and tossed them into a great metal basket upon his back.
Parson:
Beth! She's dead buried under the rubble Why Satan why did you take one of your own?
There is a curse of 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, Parson wrestled endlessly with his doubts. His outcries invited dead for us both and yet I pitied him. Then on the ninth day we saw the Martians eating inside in their new hood. They where draining the fresh living blood of man and woman and injecting it in their own veins.
Parson:
It's a sign! I've been given a sign! They have to 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 a other form. I shall destroy them with my prayers, I will 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 body of the Parson down to the coal-cellar. I heard the Martian fumbling at the latch. In the darkness I could see the claw toughing things, walls, coal, wood, and then it touch my boot. I almost shouted. For a time was it still and then with a click it gripped something - the Parson! With slow deliberated 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 machines where gone. Trembling I dug my way out and clambered to the top of the mound. Not a Martian inside. 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!
Again I was on my way to London through towns and villages that where 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 men they made and used different bodies according to their needs - they never tired, they never slept and never suffered having long since eliminated from their planet the bacteria
which caused all fevers and other morbidities.
Artilleryman:
Halt! Who goes there?
Journalist:
Er... a 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 Mayberry Hill!
Journalist:
Good heavens! The artilleryman! I thought you surely burned.
Artilleryman:
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 that we've got to start fighting! But not against them 'causes we can't win. Now we've got to fight for survival and I reckon we can make it! I've got a plan! |
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Brave New World 12:16 |
Artilleryman:
We're gonna build us a whole new world for ourselves. Look they clap eyes 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 can teach the kids, not poems and rubbish - science, so we can get everything working! We build villages and towns and... and... We 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 no 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 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 powers.
Artilleryman:
It's doing the workin' and the thinkin' that wears a feller out. I'm ready for a bit of 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... |
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Dead London 08:40 |
Journalist:
There were a dozen dead bodies in the Euston road, their bodies 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.
Ulla!
I stopped, staring toward to sound. It seemed as if that mighty desert of house had found a voice for its fear and solitude.
Ulla!
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 in state in its black shroud? I felt intolerably lonely, drifting from street to empty street, drawn inexorably towards that cry.
Ulla!
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 a still as the first.
Ulla! Ul-!
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 quite.
I looked up and saw a third machine. It was erect and motionless, like the others. An inane resolve possessed me. I would give my life to the Martians, here and now. I marched recklessly towards the titan and saw 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 Martians camp was below me. A mighty space it was, and scattered about it, in their overturned machines, were the Martians - Dead!... Slain after all mans devices had failed, by the humblest things on Earth, Bacteria, Minute, invisible bacteria!
Directly the invaders arrived and drank and fed, our microscopic allies attacked them. From that moment - they were doomed! |
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Epilogue, part 1 02:45 |
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 space, they have learned their lessons and ever now await the opportunity. Perhaps the future belongs not to us - but to the Martians? |
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Epilogue, part 2 (NASA) 01:55 |
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 losing one of the craft! Hey Bermuda you getting it?
Bermuda Control:
No, I lost contact! There is 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? Seen it? A green flare, coming from Mars! Kind of green mist behind it! It's getting closer!
You seen that 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...! |
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