Towards a language of repatriation

taking the words home to my native land, each of them with a passport,
each of them with baggage, they are British, these words,
and as we fly over the cliffs of Dover - Mist comes into the eyes,
as the waves crash upon England, my beloved England,
then they arrive at immigration, these words do, we all feel good
to have returned, elated even, then the officer checks the dictionary,
"Well well, what have we got here? "Elated" shows her passport,
and he looks up her definition, taking pleasure as He does, and poor "Elated",
seems down in spirit, "You can stay here Miss, but you are Italian
so you should be over there", then he turns to "England"
who is so glad to be back, "I'd hate to be pendantic, but mate,
you should join "Elated" - over there, being of course German."
"German?" "Yes you are originally German" "Oh" Then
he goes through all my utterances, and each one with their
passports checked, and almost all of them are told that they
are visitors from the EU, but some like "Coffee", "Bungalow", "Ketchup",
are given the full treatment, they are taken to one side
and have their passports confiscated, "Algebra" , "Alcohol" "Alcove"
are crying, indeed when I look around, nearly all of my words
are crying in different languages ----