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

8 1998
dear mr 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 straight white male, and i cant
why there 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 contain a southern cross or not and i 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 flag that is of a solid burning.
i want to know why isnt our prime minister a i was personally
more interested in whether or not paul keating grabbed the arse
than any of the that you seem to be tackling. mr prime minster, why
do you always wear black and are you hiding something? are you
of us?
i cant believe there is a feather left for me to ruffle.
i want to know why there are accents all over my television set.
as far as im concerned, kant is a philosopher. why do all
australian rock musicians in american accents? why are there no
australian musicians?
mr prime minister, why doesnt australia have a black panther
where is our bob
is our andy warhol?
why do you make me sound like a rate allen ginsberg?
dont me.
what do you know about anyway.
why dont we learn anything in school? that was a sweeping
generalization but i just finished twelve years of it and i how to
spell your 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 to canberra. i am waiting for you to wear pink. mr prime
minister, when are you going to give me a break?
i want to see you dancing in spastic glee outside an shrine, or
hard footage of you caught 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 sent men to watch
me in unmarked cars. and i havent even anything. yet.
mr prime minister, im as as you are.
get me some glamour, mr prime minister, escapism. i want to know why
we still settled the aboriginal land 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 think you
forgotten me.
when did we a colony?
mr minister, im restless.
mr minister, i dont like the state we are in, and im holding you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee