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

8 March
dear mr minister,
to be honest, im kind of disgusted with the state of 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 white male, and i 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 want a flag that is worthy of a burning.
i want to know why isnt our minister a homosexual? 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 believe there is a feather 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 sing in american accents? why are there no
australian musicians?
mr prime minister, why doesnt australia have a black party?
is our bob dylan?
where is our andy
why do you make me sound like a rate allen ginsberg?
answer me.
what do you know about anyway.
why dont we learn anything in perhaps that was a sweeping
generalization but i finished twelve years of it and i know how to
spell your but cannot be bothered to write it down.
why am i so of where i am from? i sit up all night watching
infomercials and parliamentary sessions and i cannot 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 in spastic 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 front door, i think you have sent men to
me in cars. and i havent even done anything. yet.
mr prime minister, im as as you are.
get me some glamour, mr minister, some escapism. i want to know why
we still havent settled the aboriginal 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 hand is tired. i slept for five days, ive
been waiting up for reruns of good morning america and i you have
about me.
when did we a colony?
mr minister, im restless.
mr prime minister, i dont like the we are in, and im holding you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee