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

8 March
mr prime minister,
to be honest, im kind of disgusted 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
understand why there is even a feather for me to ruffle.
mr prime minister, im queasy time i read the newspaper.
i read about the new flag the is demanding and whether our emblem
should contain a southern cross or not and i cant its even worth
the discussion. i want to see a giant on our flag. i want it made of
velvet and in glitter.
i want a that is worthy of a solid burning.
i to know why isnt our prime minister a homosexual? i was personally
more interested in whether or not paul keating the queens arse
than any of the issues that you to be tackling. mr prime minster, why
do you always wear black and are you hiding something? are you
of us?
i still cant there is a feather left for me to ruffle.
i to know 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
rock musicians?
mr prime minister, why doesnt australia have a panther party?
where is our bob
is our andy warhol?
why do you make me like a third rate allen ginsberg?
answer me.
what do you know poetry anyway.
why dont we learn anything in school? perhaps that was a
generalization but i just twelve years of it and i know how to
spell your name but cannot be bothered to it down.
why am i so ashamed of where i am from? i sit up all watching
and parliamentary sessions and i cannot think of one reason
to travel to canberra. i am waiting for you to pink. mr prime
minister, when are you going to give me a fucking
i to see you dancing in spastic glee outside an islamic shrine, or
hard copy footage of you caught doing naughty 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 think you sent men to watch
me in cars. and i havent even done 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 land 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 is tired. i havent slept for five days, ive
waiting up for reruns of good morning america and i think you have
forgotten me.
when did we become a
mr minister, im restless.
mr prime minister, i dont like the state we are in, and im you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee