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

8 March
mr prime minister,
to be honest, im kind of disgusted with the 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 basically im a straight white male, and i cant
understand why there is a feather left for me to ruffle.
mr prime minister, im every time i read the newspaper.
i read about the new flag the country is 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
and encased in glitter.
i want a flag that is of a solid burning.
i want to know why isnt our minister a homosexual? i was personally
interested in whether or not paul keating grabbed the queens arse
than any of the that you seem to be tackling. mr prime minster, why
do you always black and grey? are you hiding something? are you
of us?
i still cant believe 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 have a black panther
is our bob dylan?
where is our warhol?
why do you make me sound a third rate allen ginsberg?
answer me.
what do you about poetry 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 name but cannot be bothered to write it down.
why am i so ashamed of where i am i sit up all night watching
infomercials and 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 to see you dancing in spastic 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 door, i think you have sent men to watch
me in unmarked cars. and i havent done anything. yet.
mr minister, im as ready as you are.
get me glamour, mr prime minister, some escapism. i want to know why
we still havent settled the aboriginal land issue. ill give up my
house now, if you will put an end to this. we all know this isnt
really our home. stop kidding around.
mr prime minister, mr hand is tired. i havent for five days, ive
been waiting up for reruns of good morning and i think you have
about me.
when did we become a
mr minister, im restless.
mr prime minister, i dont like the we are in, and im holding you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee