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
you directly responsible.
ive got no diseases, no birthmarks, im not black, im not female,
sure im jewish, but im a straight white male, and i still cant
understand why is even a feather left for me to ruffle.
mr minister, im queasy every time i read the newspaper.
i read the new flag 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 penis on our flag. i it made of
velvet and in glitter.
i want a flag that is of a solid burning.
i want to why isnt our prime minister a homosexual? i was personally
more interested in whether or not paul keating grabbed the arse
than any of the issues you seem to be tackling. mr prime minster, why
do you always wear black and are you hiding something? are you
of us?
i still believe there is a feather left for me to ruffle.
i want to why there 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
australian musicians?
mr prime minister, why doesnt australia a black panther party?
is our bob dylan?
where is our warhol?
why do you make me sound like a third allen ginsberg?
answer me.
what do you about poetry anyway.
why dont we learn in school? perhaps that was a sweeping
generalization but i just finished twelve years of it and i how to
spell name but cannot be bothered to write it down.
why am i so ashamed of where i am i sit up all night watching
and parliamentary sessions 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 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 have sent men to
me in unmarked cars. and i even done anything. yet.
mr minister, im as ready as you are.
get me some glamour, mr prime minister, escapism. i want to know why
we still settled the aboriginal land right issue. ill give up my
house right now, if you will put an end to this. we all this isnt
really our home. lets kidding around.
mr minister, mr hand is tired. i havent 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 like the state we are in, and im holding you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee