The boy with the hair...
With that nose on his face!
You've seen him around; he's all over the place!

He smiles and laughs
And we play silly games
And he'd never abandon or call me mean names.

My best friend in the world
He tops off that list
Oh wait, I'm a loser...he doesn't exist.

respectability argument: to be honest, being british, i think you're being asked to be required in kenya.... unless french, and much needed in the ivory coast; unless of course bound to south america and resurrecting aztecs; but that's you, snogging Pocahontas: and there's me still thinking about L'vov in Ukraine and Vilnius in Lithuania, like some Greek torching Athens in order to reclaim the stature of being enclosed by the Koranic identification of being once named Byzantine.

i make children in my sleep. parisian monkey dogue;
i'll sell my mother for a chance to *salute!
seigel... heil! is that drowned
   or drunk monkeys? is that the fluffy *******
or the furry moustache?
      vexen ßeß -
    i'm getting the itch....
              the children rebel,
they read:
                   azure eyed
and the keeper: those americans
aren't selling the idea of democracy,
they're selling patriotism...
               we can't find patriotism
after vietnam...
               i told you i sold the children
the idea...
           they're hanging with me in the night...
they're engaging everyone with
drunk's antics... and 9 depths of Dante...
                          when no-one aims to be
intelligent, rather drunk...
                    high-streets of Aleppo...
             only when children take to invoking
a priestly Saturday...
     caste-made worth's of a *******...
i charge to culprit the salutation...
                    for whatever coaxing
i too mind the hoax -
                               veneered in vex -
                   broadly gathered with a klux.
x x x... x x x... wind-farms of Bavaria.
    tragedy in Dortmund, and navigating
the E34... i think they call it the Bermuda
spaghetti tangle...
     schloss... Mathias Pfred...
               y'ah, dirt-ridden with the Rhine...
                            neun counter eins...
       luft, feuer, wasser, erde;
      zahnseide nach naiv chittern, denken bürste;
ich nehmen die kontinent für schweinkratzen:
kichernd beifall - cacao Brad Pitt... suede
in foxtrot a vexing the ***** of mustard with
merging ginger and brownshirt; skunk
marching the heb toward allegiance texan,
for that pretty period of living in the 1960s
and the early 21st century...
and god said: either a german or a pole
will be my puppet joker, or i'll have
a resurrection of israel! ****! why not, i'll
have both.

Mc Kit, im a cat i compose my songs
a dog's gonna to bark, a dog is a dog
i go to an extent come see how long
dog sits on a chain, cats are free to walk
no reason to chase me, im high up in a tree
barking won't help, you wake a Lion in me
if it happens that you, slip off your leash
you take that chance, run away if you wish
if they catch you again and tie to a chain
they do it that way, so you can't run away
you can guard their money be my guest
real treasure though is what's in my chest
doesn't take any heart to diss a cat, fella
i fight for my freedom do this a capella
we live in a junge it's true what they say
it's a struggle for me every night and day
dog chase a cat it's hungy for food
bad dog doesn't see i am more like a wolf
figure out for yourself if you're evil or good
i gave you a recepie hope its understood
what else do you need how much more proof
i am a Whale in a sea, a cat on your roof
hold on to knowledge while my sub woofs
still all i hear in the background is woof...woof