There were twenty-four saucers that landed.
They destroyed all the citrons I’d planted.
And then portals ripped open
As I stood there "nope"in’’;
My old point of view surely expanded.

So I grabbed up my trusty old ray gun,
And I started to shoot. I had taken
Just p’raps two or three shots,
When my gun fribbed the plotz!
Oh I tell ya, my intestines were shaken!

Well, a stream of these bug-eyed pig beasts
Headed t’wards me, clothing black as a priest’s.
I was forced into action,
So t’hell with distraction!
I refused to be one of their feasts.

I had baskets of fruit right on hand,
And with nothing to lose, took a stand:
Yes, I pelted their snoots
With my crates of grapefruits;
The invasion did NOT go as planned!

For it seemed citric acid was harmful
To the puggies. I grabbed one more armful,
And I juiced ‘em real good,
Till not one of ’em stood
There before me. I’d killed me a swarmful.