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 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 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 demanding and whether our
should contain a cross or not and i cant believe its even worth
the discussion. i to see a giant 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 a homosexual? i was personally
more interested in or not paul keating grabbed the queens arse
than any of the issues that you 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 is a feather left for me to ruffle.
i want to know why there are american all over my television set.
as far as im concerned, is a german philosopher. why do all
australian rock musicians sing in american why are there no
rock musicians?
mr prime minister, why doesnt australia have a black party?
is our bob dylan?
where is our andy
why do you me sound like a third rate allen ginsberg?
answer me.
what do you about poetry anyway.
why we learn anything in school? perhaps that was a sweeping
but i just finished twelve years of it and i know how to
spell your name but cannot be to write it down.
why am i so ashamed of where i am from? i sit up all night
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 dancing in spastic glee an islamic shrine, or
hard copy footage of you caught doing things in kings cross, and i
want to say i it right 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 even 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 havent settled the aboriginal right issue. ill give up my
house right now, if you will put an end to this. we all this isnt
our home. lets stop kidding around.
mr prime minister, mr hand is tired. i havent slept for days, ive
been waiting up for reruns of good america and i think you have
forgotten me.
did we become a colony?
mr minister, im restless.
mr prime minister, i dont the state we are in, and im holding you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee