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

8 1998
mr prime minister,
to be honest, im kind of disgusted with the state of 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 still
understand why there is 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 whether our
should 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
velvet and in glitter.
i want a that is worthy of a solid burning.
i want to know why isnt our prime a homosexual? i was personally
more interested in whether or not paul keating grabbed the queens
any of the issues that you seem to be tackling. mr prime minster, why
do you always wear and grey? are you hiding something? are you
of us?
i still believe there is a feather left for me to ruffle.
i want to know why there are accents all over my television set.
as far as im concerned, is a german philosopher. why do all
australian rock musicians sing in american why are there no
australian musicians?
mr prime minister, why doesnt australia a black panther party?
where is our bob
where is our warhol?
why do you make me sound like a third rate allen
dont me.
what do you know about anyway.
why dont we anything in school? perhaps that was a sweeping
generalization but i just twelve years of it and i know how to
spell your 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 and i cannot think of one reason
to travel to canberra. i am waiting for you to wear pink. mr
minister, are you going to give me a fucking break?
i want to see you dancing in glee outside an islamic shrine, or
hard copy footage of you doing naughty things in kings cross, and i
want to say i knew it away!
why do you me?
every time i walk out the 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 some glamour, mr prime minister, escapism. i want to know why
we still havent the aboriginal land right issue. ill give up my
house right now, if you will put an end to this. we all know this
really our home. stop kidding around.
mr prime minister, mr is tired. i havent slept for five days, ive
waiting up for reruns of good morning america and i think you have
forgotten me.
did we become a colony?
mr minister, im restless.
mr prime minister, i dont like the state we are in, and im you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee