Crepuscule With Nellie

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 12th 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 it's 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 (ahh)

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 (ahh)

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 (ahh)

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