Luyện nghe bài hát An Open Letter To The Prime Minister

8 1998
dear mr minister,
to be honest, im of disgusted with the state of this country and i am
holding you responsible.
ive got no diseases, no birthmarks, im not black, im not female,
sure im jewish, but basically im a white male, and i still cant
why there is even a feather left for me to ruffle.
mr minister, im queasy every time i read the newspaper.
i read about the new flag the country is demanding and our emblem
should contain a cross or not and i cant believe its even worth
the discussion. i want to see a giant on our flag. i want it made of
and encased in glitter.
i a flag that is worthy of a solid burning.
i want to know why isnt our minister a homosexual? i was personally
more interested in whether or not paul keating grabbed the arse
than any of the issues that you to be tackling. mr prime minster, why
do you wear black and grey? are you hiding something? are you
of us?
i still cant believe there is a left for me to ruffle.
i want to know why are american accents all over my television set.
as far as im concerned, "kant" is a philosopher. why do all
australian musicians sing in american accents? why are there no
rock musicians?
mr minister, why doesnt australia have a black panther party?
is our bob dylan?
where is our warhol?
why do you make me sound like a third rate ginsberg?
dont me.
what do you know poetry anyway.
why dont we learn anything in school? that was a sweeping
but i just finished twelve years of it and i know how to
spell your name but cannot be bothered to it down.
why am i so ashamed of i am from? i sit up all night watching
infomercials and parliamentary sessions and i think of one reason
to travel to canberra. i am for you to wear pink. mr prime
minister, when are you going to give me a break?
i to see you dancing in spastic glee outside an islamic shrine, or
hard copy footage of you doing naughty things in kings cross, and i
want to say "i it right away!"
why do you me?
every time i walk out the front door, i think you have sent men to
me in unmarked cars. and i even done anything. yet.
mr prime minister, im as as you are.
get me some glamour, mr prime minister, escapism. i want to know why
we still havent the aboriginal land right issue. ill give up my
house now, if you will put an end to this. we all know this isnt
really our home. stop kidding around.
mr minister, mr hand is tired. i havent slept for five days, ive
been waiting up for of good morning america and i think you have
about me.
when did we become a
mr minister, im restless.
mr minister, i dont like the state we are in, and im holding you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee