Pixies - Doolittle (1989)
They came in fast and low, black and orange wings reflecting the ruby moonlight, flying in garish stealth patterns, spattering radio wave jam signals across all frequencies, strobing the chemical patterns of their own delusions across a planet of wild and incestuous criminal strengths, nothing rising to meet them, nothing stopping their seeming rampage, nothing caring about them at all.
They landed. They emerged, from their silicate bath cockpits. They used enhanced and natural vision to see what they had done. And it was as nothing had happened.
Humbled, they re-engaged with their now pathetic tech and slowly, almost reverently, betook themselves home. It would be a long, long winter they knew. And spring might never come again.