Journalist: The steamer began to move slowly away, but on the landward horizon appeared the silhouette of a Fighting Machine. Another came and another, striding over hills and trees, pluging far out to sea and blocking the exit of the steamer. Between, them lay silent, gray, ironclad, Thunder Child. Slowly it moved towards shore, then with a deafening roar and whoosh of spray it swung about and drove at full speed towards waiting Martians
Chorus... There were ships of shapes and sizes, Scattered out along the bay And I thought I heard her calling, As the steamer pulled away The invaders must have seen them As across the coast they filed Standing firm between them, There lay Thunderchild
Moving swiftly through the waters, Cannons blazing as she came, Brought a mighty metal warlord Crashing down in sheets of flame, Sensing victory was nearing, Thinking fortune must have smiled, People started cheering, "Come on Thunderchild! Come on Thunderchild!"
The Martians release their Black Smoke, but the ship sped on cutting down one of the Tripod figures. Instantly, the others raise the Heat-Rays and melted the Thunder Child´s valiant heart.
...
Chorus... Lashing ropes and smashing timbers, Flashing heat rays pierced the deck, Dashing hopes for our deliverance, As we watched the sinking wreck, With the smoke of battle clearing, Over graves and waves defiled, Slowly disappearing, farewell Thunderchild! Slowly disappearing, farewell Thunderchild! Farewell Thunderchild! Farewell Thunderchild, child, child, child, child...
Journalist: When the smoke cleared, the little steamer had reached the misty horizon, and Carrie was safe. But the Thunder Child had vanished forever, taking with her man's last hope of victory. The leaden sky was lit by green flashes, cylinder following cylinder, and no one and nothing was left now to fight them. The Earth belonged to the Martians