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

8 1998
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
understand why is even a feather left for me to ruffle.
mr prime minister, im queasy every i read the newspaper.
i about the new flag the country is demanding and whether our emblem
should 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 worthy of a burning.
i to know why isnt our prime minister a homosexual? i was personally
more in whether or not paul keating grabbed the queens arse
than any of the issues that you seem to be tackling. mr minster, why
do you always wear and grey? are you hiding something? are you
of us?
i still cant believe there is a left 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
rock musicians sing in american accents? why are there no
australian musicians?
mr prime minister, why doesnt australia have a black panther
is our bob dylan?
where is our warhol?
why do you me sound like a third rate allen ginsberg?
dont me.
what do you know about anyway.
why dont we learn anything in school? perhaps that was a
but i just finished twelve years of it and i know how to
spell your name but be bothered to write it down.
why am i so ashamed of i am from? i sit up all night watching
infomercials and parliamentary sessions and i cannot think of one
to to canberra. i am waiting for you to wear pink. mr prime
minister, when are you going to me a fucking break?
i want to see you in spastic glee outside an islamic shrine, or
hard copy of you caught doing naughty things in kings cross, and i
to say i knew it right away!
why do you me?
every time i walk out the front door, i you have sent men to watch
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, some escapism. i 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. lets stop around.
mr prime minister, mr hand is tired. i havent for five days, ive
been waiting up for of good morning america and i think you have
forgotten me.
did we become a colony?
mr minister, im restless.
mr minister, i dont like the state we are in, and im holding you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee