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

8 March
mr prime minister,
to be honest, im of disgusted 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 basically im a white male, and i still cant
understand why there is even a 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 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 want it of
and encased in glitter.
i want a flag is worthy of a solid burning.
i want to know why our prime minister a homosexual? i was personally
more interested in whether or not paul grabbed the queens arse
than any of the issues you seem to be tackling. mr prime minster, why
do you always wear 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 rock musicians sing in american why are there no
rock musicians?
mr prime minister, why doesnt australia a black panther party?
where is our bob
is our andy warhol?
why do you make me sound a third rate allen ginsberg?
dont me.
do you know about poetry anyway.
why dont we anything in school? perhaps that was a sweeping
generalization but i just finished twelve of it and i know how to
your name but cannot 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 travel to canberra. i am waiting for you to pink. mr prime
minister, when are you going to give me a fucking
i want to see you dancing in spastic glee an islamic shrine, or
hard copy footage of you doing naughty things in kings cross, and i
want to say i it right 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 havent even 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 settled the aboriginal land right issue. ill give up my
right 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 slept for days, ive
been waiting up for reruns of morning america and i think you have
about me.
when did we a colony?
mr minister, im restless.
mr prime minister, i like the state we are in, and im holding you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee