I heard that dreams were illegal
So i find that so many people,
Escape to an alternate reality
Hoping that one day,
It becomes there reality.
I heard that dreams were illegal
So I cant hope to see you
A life sentence is the right sentence
Because I'm dreaming to be with you
Contractions and convictions
Feeding at the criminal inside of me
Because I can't fight this distance .
I heard that dreams were illegal
So these sirens are at my feet
Red and Blue lights are all I see
Tho, I'm running to see you
I heard that dreams are illegal
But I'd stand in front of the judge
If the crime is to lay with you
What could I possibly say or do
As these thoughts run wild & recklessly ,
I heard that dreams were illegal ,
Time has passed wonderment of being with you
Is something I can no longer endure ,
The complexity has my mind racing
Heart beating faster each second of every minute ,
I heard that dreams were illegal,
Facts will lay were they may ,
I'm around but i can't come your way ,
Only time has been patientI've been patient with time ,
Demented as my behavior becomes more & more irrational ,
Saunteredly moving the sky becomes gray ,
I paint your face wherever my eyes lay ,
My propitate ways deny what is not pleasing to me
I heard that dreams were illegal
So that view of sunshine you see
Is affiliated with doing time
It is less than freedom
But more then slavery
So let us progress into the abyss
So when they finally disclose
The recipe for happiness
We'll know that we are free
I heard that dreams were illegal
So I hope that what I see
Is really just my reality
Tho my high hopes
Sink low when I realize
Im Dreaming,

.so... just because he's copper skinned, and doesn't speak the English language with a continental accent but some brash, canopy of urban slang, he's the superior authority of the dialectical drag of opinion? oh! really?! so we're talking to diacritical aesthetic snobs?! wow! i thought i was bad at that, which i am... but i'm first generation, and i know the courtesy of remaining the voice tracking, a minority... that somehow has enough oil in the cogs of cognition, to leave these isles... i'll stay... blend in... only the more obnoxious english people are bothered by my "accent"... like that one comic in Edinburgh said... you might wonder about my accent... it's educated... my one flaw... i live in Essex but don't fit the Essex boy stereotype... some i'm primarily foreign... not educated.

that's nice, no really...
  back in 1997
   i was an illegal immigrant -
deported from England
with my parents...
aged...
  1986... aged... 11...
about to start
secondary school...
Canon Palmer,
7 kings...
i remember the whole encounter,
happened on Sunday -
the Home Office officers came
plain clothes... knocked
on the door...
my father started running...
jumped a few garden fences...
was caught...
my grandfather was visiting,
kept blaming himself
for the incident....
the day before?
   we were out doing the usual
family stuff -
won a massive red dog doll
for my mother rolling
***** into holes with
camels racing across the
canvas...
   what was that place...
can't remember...
   but sure as hell i remember
the ride...
   started off circular horizontal,
ended up circular vertical...
    but turns out i remember
that Sunday better...
         one of the home office officers
walked into my bedroom with
me sobbing...
   and only said:
you have a nice computer...
i gave him the death stare...
   well... second time round
my parents figured out all the legal
issues of applying for citizenry -
  and managed to get it...
did i sing the national anthem
at the integration ceremony?
like **** it did...
           i speak an english
that transcends national anthem *******,
plus i'm waiting for Charlie...
   who probably going to
become George VIII or something...
    but i know the backbone of
illegal migration,
i was one, aged 11...
seeing my parents get arrested
i started a fist-fight with a wall
that i knew i was going to lose...
      point being...
  whenever some, ******* Somali migrant...
some African migrant in his teens
gets away with illegal migration?
look...
i know what illegal migration
looks like...
   don't tell me no person is illegal
because you're copper-skinned
and bronze when tanned...
and that's your sole excuse!
        ****** me off...
****... didn't you hear that
Bukowski already said?
  the poor are not good unto their fellows
and the rich are likewise...
so why expect economic migrants
to not think less of refugees?
economic migrants at least do
not smuggle in tears and homeland
literary worth regrets...
no-nonsense migration...
  competent roofers -
   competent plumbers...
   but i... kinda love how the middle class
english "lass" will prefer Afro-****
over an unblocked toilet...
            and their children,
Bahamas beauties, all of them...
pretty mongrels outliving pedigrees...
  there is a concept of illegal
immigration,
i was an illegal immigrant...
    but, hey... a white among whites
means i don't have the copper skin
argument to call it: "racism"...
   can people actually file for
a de- citizenship?
               there are still parts of Europe,
that do not have a post-colonial
  present...
  where the Somali, Nigerian argument...
will not, work...
it, will, not, work...
             it's days like these where
i'm like: whatever the U.S.S.R. was,
and what it became...
   i'm about to snuggle up to the current
shadow...
          no... illegal immigration
exists...
             unless you're *******
color blind...
                   hell...
at least i spent 1998 being home schooled -
and watching the World Cup with
my great-grandmother...
   and discovering Metallica...
but no... when some ******* sub-Saharan
tells me about the citizenry of
the world...
          look... head over to Kiev...
  see how happy the Ukrainians will be...
head over to the Warsaw...
   where the signs are in both Polish
and Ukrainian...
                please! please! i implore you!
try assuming that everyone
over those parts is bilingual speaking
English...
i'm waiting to see the Islamic takeover...
on the local and primordial level
of a "peasantry" -
                      but like shaggy said -
wazzin' me...
    i didn't castrate the English...
      to me their testicles are still dangling...
or at least i like to think they are...
    but as an economic migrant...
i abhor what others somehow find
emotional cupcakes of sugary ooze for
in terms of sympathy...
             guess the first line of chess -
collateral - pawns -
       is necessary beside the bishop -
   like what the Palestinians do with their
civilians, according to the Israeli
army...
                     so why bother making
psychedelics legal...
  when you trip on moral relativism?!

hands down...

   i'll stage a show,
akin to:

    ein hanswurst
              mit-nein schminke...

hanswurst-gesicht-gegessen-
               durch-
             die-arbeit-zustand-
    ein-lächeln:

a clown without make-up...

   clown face eaten
              by
        the work of being
            eaten by: a smile.

- but unlike "abraham" clinton...
i can tell you...
i did nothing wrong
by visiting a brothel...

       the wrong party is
protected under the "law":
it's illegal to procure
prostitution
   with a brothel...

   it's not illegal
to visit a *******,
as it is not illegal
to be a *******...

what is illegal...
is to own a brothel...
to be, the "madam"...
from what i've heard:
i haven't done
anything illegal...

and all the better for it...
given the freedom
of current women,
the only pleasure,
or the last remnant
of freedom for men
to be enjoyed...
is among prostitutes...

the "question" of rubber
isn't even on the cards...
if you've never been...
you'll never know...
what...
    feels like...
  an eternity...
  when you're not
latched onto a parasitical
****'s worth of
"responsibility"...
a "james bond" stealth tax...

not when you're
at university,
and haven't thought
about applying for a job...
not this
******* "solomon's surprise"
of a child when
you haven't learned to use
your feet...
only just finished
using up your arms...

under the english law:
i did nothing wrong
visiting a brothel...
  or a *******...
not one, iota, of harm...
  
   last time i heard...
it's not illegal to be a *******,
nor is it illegal
to be a *******'s pundit...
what is illegal...
is owning / running a brothel...
basically prostitutes
can only be prostitutes
if they serve the working
ethos of considering
themselves self-employed...
but who the **** has
the sort of money
to throw it at women,
behind a camera,
                                 jerking off?

if you're like me...
you're like the "snob"
at the smithfield "laundary"
exchange base:
some people even decided
to call it:
      smit-ah-field...
you know:
when people became
confused buying a bargain
of bulgarian beef,
when it was actually
romanian pork...

  but last time i checked...
what was illegal?
was the venue we spent
an hour in...
and i forgot to trim
my ***** hair,
and me all "embarrassed"...
decided to smooch
            for an hour.

**** me: at least some clear
boundaries...
   she tells you she's
s.t.d. checked...
you put on the ****-tracey
gimp latex tux...
   you start making
items of scent,
past the already applied
perfumes...
the hair has a different
signature to the skin,
  and all else...
        and... pure procreation...
nothing of a moral
question to hugging
babies: as much as i'd love
to hug babbies as petting
the ultimate autistic bonsai:
of the worth of cats...

women:
  an exasperating word...
akin to something
by tom waits: live...

which is why i don't understand
the whole jack the ripper
cult modus operandi of
sifting through the obvious...

(said in a hushed tone(:

     at least with a *******
i don't have to worry
about the clam-trap...
  clam-trap?
   tell you it's o.k. to rubber-off...
encouraging you:
it's on the pill...
   and then...
                     well... it's either
a lie or...
      it's a double lie...
  whatever it was, is,
or will forever be...

     i didn't break a single
english law
by visiting a *******...
she didn't either...
the act wasn't forbidden...
nuance...
   it's illegal
to run a brothel in england...
that's why...
all the prostitutes
of amsterdam...
appear to be self-employed...
the brothel is "bypassed"...
well...
it is, but it technically isn't...

now...
i rather prefer the "moral"
debate concerning prostitutes...
than the debate
concerning relationships
and unwanted
pregnancies...

  why complicate
this world with a compliment
of said question,
about...
   the attitudes
of free women of the west?
i almost would understand
being unable to pull out
a circumcised phallus
from a ******...
  but an uncircumcised phallus?

*****, please...
i know what an *******
feels like...
it's my *******...
pulled back...
constricting
the "sudden" burst
of "juice"...
   it's not a milli-second
timed event...
i don't need some
circumcised ego-tripper
to tell me
what...
   imitation circumcision
feels like...
and how *******
can be prevented to
claim "responsibility"...
  went to a *******...
performed oral ***
on her...
   and this is how that
"oration" translates into!