Dead London
Richard Burton; Jeff Wayne Lyrics
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Martian: Ulla!
I stopped, staring towards the sound. It seemed as if that mighty desert of houses had found a voice for its fear and solitude.
Martian: Ulla!
Martian: Ulla!
I saw, over the trees on Primrose Hill, the fighting machine from which the howling came. I crossed Regent's Canal. There stood a second machine, upright, but as still as the first.
Martian: Ulla!
Abruptly, the sound ceased. Suddenly the desolation, the solitude, became unendurable. While that voice sounded London still seemed alive. now suddenly there was a change, the passing of something, and all that remained was this gaunt quiet.
I looked up, and saw a third machine. It was erect and motionless, like the others. An insane resolve possessed me: I would give my life to the Martians, here and now.
I marched recklessly towards the titan and saw that a multitude of black birds were 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 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, the Martian's camp was below me. A mighty space it was, and scattered about it, in their overturned machines, were the Martians, slain after all man's devices had failed by the humblest creatures on the earth: bacteria. Minute, invisible, bacteria. Directly the invaders arrived and drank and fed, our microscopic allies attacked them. From that moment, they were doomed.
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 could 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 even now await their opportunity. Perhaps the future belongs not to us, but to the Martians.
The lyrics to Richard Burton Jeff Wayne's song Dead London describe the aftermath of the Martian invasion of London. The singer wanders through the desolate and silent streets, marked by the outlines of dead bodies and the remnants of looters who had raided the abandoned shops. He hears a haunting cry, "Ulla," that seems to come from the barren city itself. In his loneliness, he follows the sound and comes face to face with one of the Martian fighting machines.
Despite the danger, the singer is drawn to the machine and runs towards it with an "insane resolve." As he climbs the hill towards the monster, he sees that it has been overcome by minute bacteria that had attacked the invaders after they arrived on earth. The Martians are dead, and life can begin to return to normal.
The song's haunting and evocative lyrics capture the devastation of a world where humanity has been overthrown by a superior force. The singer's journey through the ruins of London speaks to the themes of death, loneliness, and the enduring human spirit in the face of catastrophe.
Line by Line Meaning
There were a dozen dead bodies in the Euston road, their outlines softened by the black dust.
The death and destruction of the Martian invasion has left its mark on London, visible in the lifeless and decaying bodies lying in the streets.
Martian: Ulla!
The eerie cry of the Martians echoes through the abandoned city, a haunting reminder of the terror they wrought.
The desolating cry worked upon my mind. The wailing took possession of me.
The Martian's cry affects the singer deeply, overwhelming him with feelings of despair and loneliness in the empty streets.
I saw, over the trees on Primrose Hill, the fighting machine from which the howling came.
The artist spots the Martian machine responsible for the haunting sound, looming over London from Primrose Hill.
Abruptly, the sound ceased. Suddenly the desolation, the solitude, became unendurable.
With the Martian's cry abruptly stopping, the artist is left feeling even more isolated and hopeless than before.
An insane resolve possessed me: I would give my life to the Martians, here and now.
Driven to madness by the bleak state of London, the singer decides to sacrifice himself to the Martians.
I scrambled up to the crest of Primrose hill, the Martian's camp was below me.
The singer climbs to the top of Primrose Hill and spots the Martian camp in the distance.
Minute, invisible, bacteria. Directly the invaders arrived and drank and fed, our microscopic allies attacked them.
Despite the Martians' advanced technology, they were ultimately defeated by the Earth's smallest inhabitants - bacteria - who were able to penetrate their immune systems and kill them.
As life returns to normal, the question of another attack from Mars causes universal concern.
The people of Earth are left to worry about the possibility of another Martian invasion and the destruction it could bring.
Perhaps the future belongs not to us, but to the Martians.
The artist suggests that the Martians may still be a threat, and that the fate of Earth may ultimately rest in their hands.
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: JEFF WAYNE
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Quox
It makes sense, sickness is a terrible way to die, perhaps not unwarranted but terrible nonetheless. It only gets worse if you go off the canon of the one rts game for their reason to invade.
Their world could no longer sustain them, in desperation they came to earth to preserve their species. The transit was long, and the pods they rode in cramped, compounded with the pressure being charged to save their civilization. When they arrive, they are greeted with an uncomfortable atmosphere and the creatures they were charged to either exterminate or enslave, but feel some relief in finding they are well equipped for this task, and that whenever they succeed, they are treated to a feast, a rarity on their dying world and boding well for once the world is theirs.
More land and join, bases are constructed as a grim harvest begins and for the first time in years, there is enough food to go around. A fitting reward to ensuring the survival of their species, if that alone is not enough. Now fast forward to this point and put yourself in one of those machines.
Breathing, already uncomfortable, now becomes unbearable, interrupted as mucous chokes you and forces you to cough, further irritating your lungs. Your body’s futile attempts to battle whatever ails you causes your body to shift temperature drastically, leaving freezing one moment, and burning and dehydrated the next. Your vision blurs from pain, dehydration, and lack of rest. Your limbs cannot even reach the controls of your machine, once your throne from which you reigned over these animals, now a cramped prison, and soon, your coffin, until the humans move it, that is.
Native creatures circle overhead, you note absentmindedly, reaching over yourself with what strength you have in a futile attempt to ease the pain. Your death will mean the death of your species, and worse yet, all the weapons and technology you had brought with you to perform your mission will be taken by the humans. The last remnants of your civilization will be subsumed and lost amongst to warring natives, used to murder one another in absence of a common enemy. As if to prove you right, despite your blurred vision, you see one draw closer, your brethren, delirious or feeling vulnerable, loose weak, warbling war cries, and the human draws closer, unafraid.
Soon the humans will pick your machine clean for it’s secrets just as the creatures above will pick your body. The last hurrah of your entire civilization, a note in the history of another.
havenisse2009
"from that moment, they were doomed". Gives me goose bumps every time. This is an awesome masterpiece.
Don Smeltzer
Slain by the humblest creatures that God, in His wisdom, placed upon the Earth.
·ILLVMINATVS·
By the toll of a billion deaths, man had earned his immunity, his right to survive among this planet's infinite organisms. And that right is ours against all challenges, for neither do men live nor die in vain.
Scotseaman
The music in this is perfect. It sounds like a clock slowly ticking until finally it ends. There's nothing but a dreadful quiet. Then it picks up showing the journalists just wants to end it. It's truly fitting.
Good job Jeff!
turkey
hello cousin
William Mitchell
Before I heard Richard's narration, in a way it reminded me of a musical piece from Bear McCreary
Michal Slatina
And Richard Burton, of course.
MMMMario
I really love this drawing, it just looks so open and you can see a devastated city below the martians, and it shows you how big the Martians are
Electric Boogaloo
It gives me a scared yet happy feeling because everyone is dead but you look up and see the killers also dead. It’s just that the protagonist is alive and can see all of this which many of the people didn’t
Micky S
ngl, I didn't notice the city at first and just assumed they were in an open field.