Prime Minister
Challenging Authority: The Unowned Prime Minister
Lyrics
You're called our Prime Minister, but you're not really ours.
You hold the title of Prime Minister, but you don't truly belong to us.
You're called our Prime Minister, but you're not really ours.
Reiteration of the idea that the Prime Minister is not genuinely connected to the people.
When you're sitting in your office or you're sitting in a bar,
Whether in your official office or a casual setting like a bar,
I hope you're thinking of the people that you're pushing into harms way,
Expressing a desire for the Prime Minister to consider the consequences of their decisions, especially the harm to people.
Stay, a little while sir, let me pour you another drink,
An invitation for the Prime Minister to stay and share a drink.
Let the whiskey warm your cold soul just enough for you to think,
Suggesting that alcohol may provide a moment for reflection.
About Nauru Island up in flames, Manus Island up in flames,
Mentioning Nauru and Manus Islands being in distress or crisis.
About mouldy bread and burnin' kids and all the horrid shame.
Referring to the harsh conditions, such as moldy bread and harm to children, associated with immigration policies.
I hope it keeps you up at night, I hope ya can't sleep at night,
Expressing a wish for the Prime Minister to be haunted by these issues, affecting their sleep.
I hope it slowly burns away at the cold soul inside.
Desiring that these concerns eat away at the Prime Minister's conscience.
I hope you're frightened of your future, hope you're frightened of our voice.
Hoping the Prime Minister fears the consequences of their actions and the public's response.
I hope you're frightened of the ten million Australians who will rejoice when you are,
Wishing for the Prime Minister to be afraid of the millions of Australians celebrating their departure from office.
Thrown out of the senate, on to the cold hard floor.
Imagining the Prime Minister being removed from power and landing on a cold, hard floor.
I hope you're thrown out in the rain and ya watch them lock the door,
Desiring a symbolic expulsion with the image of being left outside in the rain while a door is locked.
I hope ya forced to eat at soup vans, in Fremantle square,
Expressing a wish for the Prime Minister to experience the hardships faced by those dependent on soup vans.
So you can ask them how a hundred and twenty two million could help 'em there!
Suggesting the Prime Minister should question how funds could have helped those in need.
And when you're walkin' through the city street, late night past all the bars,
Imagining the Prime Minister walking through city streets late at night.
Stumbling through alleyways, cigarette ridden paths,
Depicting a scene of disorientation, stumbling through alleys filled with discarded cigarette butts.
I hope ya look up the night sky see it written in the stars,
Hoping the Prime Minister reflects on their actions by looking up at the night sky.
I hope it's shouted from the rooftops, and every fucking star,
Desiring a widespread acknowledgment and condemnation of the Prime Minister's disconnect from the people.
That you're called our Prime Minister,
Reiterating the theme that the Prime Minister is not genuinely representing the people.
But you're not really ours.
Reiteration of the idea that the Prime Minister is not truly connected to the citizens.
And when you're walkin' through the city street, late night past all the bars,
Repetition of the scene of the Prime Minister walking through city streets.
Stumbling through alleyways, cigarette ridden paths,
Repetition of the disoriented state while navigating through alleys.
I hope ya look up the night sky see it written in the stars,
Reiteration of the hope for the Prime Minister to look up at the night sky and reflect.
I hope it's shouted from the bus stops, and every bloody car,
Desiring widespread acknowledgment and criticism from various sources.
That you're called our Prime Minister,
Repeating the central theme that the Prime Minister doesn't truly belong to the people.
But you're not really ours.
Reiteration of the idea that the Prime Minister is not genuinely connected to the citizens.
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