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letra de the spirit of man - wayne jeff

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 week, and 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 into flame, are you all right?
nathaniel: don’t touch me!
beth: but it’s me, beth! your wife!
nathaniel: no! you’re one of them, a devil!
beth: he’s delirious!
nathaniel: lies! i saw the devil’s sign!
beth: what are you saying?
nathaniel: 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’s still standing, come nathaniel, quickly.
we took shelter in a cottage, and black smoke spread, hemming us in. then a fighting machine came across the field spraying jets of steam that turned the smoke into thick, black dust.
martians: ulla!
beth: dear god, help us!
nathaniel: the voice of the devil is heard in our land!

nathaniel: 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?
in carnation 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 something worth dying for
and if one man can stand tall
there must be hope for us all
somewhere, somewhere in the spirit of man

nathaniel: 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 can stand tall
there must be some hope for us all
somewhere, somewhere in the spirit of man

beth: people loved you, and trusted you, came to you for help.
nathaniel: 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
(no,) 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

nathaniel: 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
nathaniel: no, there is nothing!
beth: there must be something worth trying for
nathaniel: i don’t believe it’s so!
beth: even some things worth dying for
if just one man could stand tall
there would be some hope for us all
somewhere, somewhere in the spirit of man

nathaniel: 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
(no,) 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

nathaniel: dear god! a cylinder’s landed on the house, and we are 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 into a great metal basket upon its back.
nathaniel: 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 p-ssed 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.

- wayne jeff

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