Clowns from the Rusty Saucer

They landed in a junkyard… 1984…
Oil dripping from the hull – no aliens before.

Rusty bolts and broken lights
Grey skins in a padded flight
They came to probe but took a wrong turn
Now three-wheel clowns make the saucer burn

HONK! HONK! The siren splits the sky
Size 22 shoes stomping by
Aliens scream – “We brought the plague!”
Clowns just laugh on a bicycle parade

Rust and rubber, acid glee
Xenomorphs ride tricycles with me
Annihilator riffs in a cosmic mess
Clown blood + alien flesh — thrash’s caress!

Tentacles grip the handlebars
Seltzer spray between the stars
Flower lapel drips green isotope
This isn’t terror – it’s big-top hope

“So… uh… Captain. The clowns want reparations.
They say we bent their unicycle lane.”
“JUST PLAY THE TRITONE, SERG! FLOOR IT!”
Honk-honk-honk-honk-honk-honk-honk-WHEE!

Rust and rubber, grinding bones
Alien jugglers throw asteroids and phones
Annihilator riffs in a clown-faced storm
Three wheels, six eyes – METAL REBORN!

Flying saucer – patches of rust…
Clown confetti in the upper thrust…
One last squeak of a rubber nose…
(single snare hit, feedback drone, then:)

“They wanted to dissect cows…
Now they juggle torches for the circus of the damned.
Hail the three-ring thrash.”