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

8 March
mr prime 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 prime minister, im queasy every i read the newspaper.
i read about the new flag the country is and whether our emblem
should contain a southern cross or not and i cant believe its even
the discussion. i want to see a penis 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 minister a homosexual? i was
more interested in or not paul keating grabbed the queens arse
than any of the issues you seem 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 accents all over my set.
as far as im concerned, is a german philosopher. why do all
australian rock musicians sing in american accents? why are no
australian rock
mr prime minister, why doesnt australia have a black party?
is our bob dylan?
where is our warhol?
why do you make me sound like a third allen ginsberg?
dont me.
what do you know about anyway.
why dont we learn anything in school? that was a sweeping
generalization but i just 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 and i cannot think of one reason
to travel to canberra. i am waiting for you to pink. mr prime
minister, are you going to give me a fucking break?
i want to see you dancing in spastic outside an islamic shrine, or
hard copy footage of you caught doing things in kings cross, and i
want to say i knew it away!
why do you me?
every time i walk out the front door, i think you 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, 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
our home. lets stop kidding around.
mr prime minister, mr is tired. i havent slept for five days, ive
been waiting up for of good morning america and i think you have
forgotten me.
when did we become a
mr minister, im restless.
mr prime minister, i dont like the state we are in, and im you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee