** song lyrics
The Eve of War
The Journalist ~ No one would have belived, int he last years of the nineteenth century, that human affairs were being watched from the timeless worlds of space. No one could have dreamed we were being scrutinised as someone with a microscope studies creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. Few men even concidered the possability of life on other planets. And yet, across the gulf of space, minds immesurably superior to ours regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly but surely, they drew their plans against us...
At midnight on the 12th of August, a huge mass of luminous gas erupted from Mars and sped towards Earth. Across the two hundred miles of void, invisibly hurtling towards us, came 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 some how disturbing sight. Ogilvy, the astronamer, assured me we were in no danger. He was convinced 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 comign from Mars are a million to one, but still, they come!
Then came the night the first missile approched Earth. It was thought to be an ordinary falling star, but the next day there was a huge crater in the middle of the Common, and Ogilvy came to examine what lay there. A cylinder, thirty yards across, glowing hot, with the 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, 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, he said. 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 can the sound of shunting trains, ringing and rumbling, softened almost into melody by the distance... It all seemed so safe and tranquil.
Horsell Common And The Heat Ray
The Journalist~ Next morning a crowd gathered on the Common, hypnotised by the unscrewing of the cylinder. Two feet of shining screw projected when suddenly, the lid fell off. Two luminous, disk-like eyes appeared above the rim. A huge rounded bulk, larger than a bear, rose up slowly, glistening like wet leather. It's lipless mouth quivered and slathered, 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 up and an invisible ray of heat lept 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, 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 and account for my newspaper before I sank into a restless, haunted sleep.
I awoke to the 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 on 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 realised with horror that my home was now within reach of the Heat Ray.
At dawn, a falling star with a trail of green mist, landed like a flash of summer lightning. This was the second cylinder.
