Various Artists Follow

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
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
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 somehow disturbing sight

Ogilvy, the astronomer
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 coming
From Mars are a million to one, but still they come!"

Then came the night
The first missile approached Earth
It was thought to be an ordinary falling star

But 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 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 came the sound of
Shunting trains, ringing and rumbling
Softened almost into melody by the distance
It all seemed so safe and tranquil

In the last years of the nineteenth century
That human affairs were being watched