Journalist: 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 I 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 in to 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 is still standing, come Nathaniel, quickly.
Journalist: We took shelter in the cottage and black smoke spread, hemming us in. Then a fighting machine came across the fields spraying jets of steam that turned the smoke in to 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 could stand tall
There would 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 could stand tall
There would 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 your 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
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,
And if one man could stand tall,
There would 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, 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 in to 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.