Luyện nghe bài hát Open Letter to the Prime Minister (Previously Unreleased)

8 1998
mr prime minister,
to be honest, im kind of 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 straight white male, and i cant
understand why is even a feather left for me to ruffle.
mr prime minister, im queasy time i read the newspaper.
i read about the new the country is demanding and whether our emblem
contain a southern 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 want a that is worthy of a solid burning.
i want to know why our prime minister a homosexual? i was personally
more interested in or not paul keating grabbed the queens 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 feather for me to ruffle.
i want to know why there are american all over my television set.
as far as im concerned, is a german philosopher. why do all
australian rock sing in american accents? why are there no
australian musicians?
mr prime minister, why doesnt australia have a panther party?
where is our bob
is our andy warhol?
why do you make me sound like a rate allen ginsberg?
dont me.
what do you about poetry anyway.
why dont we anything in school? perhaps that was a sweeping
generalization but i just finished twelve of it and i know how to
spell name but cannot be bothered to write it down.
why am i so ashamed of where i am from? i sit up all night
infomercials and parliamentary sessions and i cannot of one reason
to to canberra. i am waiting for you to wear pink. mr prime
minister, are you going to give me a fucking break?
i want to see you dancing in spastic glee outside an shrine, or
copy footage of you caught doing naughty things in kings cross, and i
want to say i knew it away!
why do you me?
every i walk out the front door, i think you have sent men to watch
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, some escapism. i to know why
we still settled the aboriginal land right issue. ill give up my
right now, if you will put an end to this. we all know this isnt
really our home. lets stop around.
mr prime minister, mr hand is tired. i havent slept for days, ive
been waiting up for reruns of good morning america and i 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