Luyện nghe bài hát An Open Letter To The Prime Minister

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