Their interest in us is self-serving.
Why these war-beasts have kept me on I haven't a clue. Perhaps my ruddy complexion is a reminder of the basic hue of a home deserted yet scarcely forgotten.I cannot by any stretch of the imagination -- and there's been a great deal of such "stretching" lately -- attribute to these coarse and loathsome creatures any delicate sentiment characteristic of our gentler race. These Martians are scorpions. They are malefactors to the most extreme degree.Upon first sighting of the alien beings, we humans found ourselves both inescapably transfixed by their revolting semblance of a face and, subsequently, retching with violent abandon, overcome as we were by their unimaginable hideousness.My viewing INVADERS FROM MARS, when a child, could not have prepared me for what started out as a little boy's nightmare. Now-extinguished friends had earlier tossed off the initial radio contact from the Martians as a higher power's benign interest in an inferior intelligence.Such fatuous naivete has cost us all dearly.
The scorpions took us for a ride gently on their leathery hide
But somewhere on the road we knew their promises weren't coming true
Their stingers poised to stop our flight we ran for cover in the night
And even now we hear their song although it's been so very long
Your writing, Nancy, is so clever, so good!