Luyện nghe bài hát Narration

I was born Jonathon Aaron Steel, to the parents of and Elizabeth
steel. I am a Leo, born under the sign of the and I was raised in a
lower middle class family with only one brother whom I love
dearly. He was five years my senior. My father's nickname was Red I
could never why because his hair was sandy blond. Nevertheless,
the stuck. So when my brother was born my father became Big Red and
my Little Red. I should have known from the first time when I
realised their special connection, that I just fit in to my
father's plans. And as I grew older the comparison between my
brother and myself left little who was the image of perfection in my
eye. To him, my brother could do no wrong and I became The
Invisible Boy, the proverbial sheep' and I soon figured out that
red and black don't mix. The beatings I received became more and
frequent to the point where I would ask my "Am I the orphaned son
you would need"? But oddly enough I worshipped the ground my father
upon.

My and I were a strange mixture, as different as daylight and
dark. Looking back, it's hard to imagine we came the same parents. I
sometimes wondered if we had the same father, but I dismissed that
as my mother was far too religious, my father as well, to ever even
think of such a thing. But my who had always sensed my parent's
instilled insecurities his best to encourage me. For I was born
different and he knew it. He often me when I was born an angel flew
over my bed and christened me with a wand and said "You shall be the
one". And I had no idea 'The one' was, but as I grew older I began to
understand. Most boys put their mother on a pedestal and them like
the Mary but with her too my relationship was different and not for
the good. She was opinionated, uneducated, prejudiced,
overbearing, believed everything she read, or not, and when it came
to religion was over-zealous to say the least. A boggling combination
but she was pretty, very and I would often wonder, bordering on
complete confusion, how a person of description could rationalise life.

This was a series of characteristics many times in my life I would
look back on in bewilderment and the women I after when I was older
be nothing like her. In the pain of youth, the misery of my neglect,
would manifest itself in many ways; depression - my enemy, - my
friend, hatred - my lover, and - fuel for my fire. These four
characteristics of my personality would the guiding force of my
life and would control everything I did or was to become. I shall
later in the story them which I call my Four Doors of Doom.

The mirror, the great plaything for man's vanity. The was to
become, at times, my altar of and other, my alter ego and its
magnificent obsession with a relentless of attention. It served as
a reflection of my own wretchedness and my greatness. It was the
one place I go to see inside myself, to find love, in an otherwise
loveless where I could be great, where I could be anything or
I wanted to be - one hundred percent pure escapism until I
discovered its precious secret. The lives, it breathes, it talks,
it lies, it has a personality all its own. It is a genie grants all
the wishes you ever dream, at least in my case - all except two.

It was my 14th birthday, the day changed my life forever. My brother
Michael, the one person who was my light, my friend, my hero, was
killed by a drunk in a head-on collision. He died instantly. I
couldn't bring myself to go to his funeral. My agony was so great I
just come face to face with him that one last time. My failure to
attend intensified my parents' resentment for me even more. But that
moment on, seemed to matter, especially that living hell called
'home'. For one year after his I roamed the streets in a fog barely
conscious of anything or anyone. I alcohol, and girls, drugs
and in general a life I had known which was exciting, frightening
and dangerous. And it was then as I staggered through a down
town city street in one of my drunken rages I across a small
music shop and in the stood the instrument, the fiery tool that
would the object of my new found desire. The instrument of my
passion, my obsession, the blood-red six string. It was like I'd
the all my life.

I soon found it was the way I could truly express myself. It was a
way to vent all my and all my pain - completely opened all my
Four Doors Of Doom and I found myself going to the mirror for counsel
and less. Because of this my songs seemed to write themselves and I
my destiny was in my music but I was going to have to get out of
backwards I was in if I was ever going to succeed. I was 16 going
nowhere and the only thing my knew was 'live, work, die. ' And if I
stayed there that was exactly was going to happen to me - I was gonna
die. So I ran away to the big with the lights, excitement and danger
and a for me to finally live and do my music without the
persecution I had for so long. I hitchhiked all the way with a
suitcase in one hand and my guitar in the other and as I stood at the
of the the magic of the place was incredibly intense. It was to be my
new home the place I would call the Of Pleasure'. I lived and
struggled in the arena for two years to get a break in music and
make a record and when I ran across a delightful business man named
Charlie. He had a lawyer for 25 years before he discovered he could
fuck over more people in the recording industry he ever could in a
of law and he was the president of one of the biggest record
companies in the world. The music business to was nothing more
than a lamb to be led to slaughter and the weapon of choice
was his record company that he'd wield a mighty sword. The great tool
he would lovingly refer to as 'The Chainsaw'. The morgue, said,
was the music business where everyone out. Where all the artists
will whore themselves to commercialism, the place where the
music comes to die. And through him I learned everything I needed to
about the music business and even things I didn't want to know. He he
could make me a star, one of the biggest the world had ever seen.
The big time was calling and I was on my way. He me to an
aspiring young manager named Rodman and together we took on the whole
fucking world and it square in the ass.

before the release of my first album I was sitting on the steps in
front of my apartment when a gypsy woman by. She stopped and asked
me if I would my fortune read and I had never had it done so I was
more than happy to say yes. She revealed a deck of Tarot cards and
to tell me of my past in which she went into great about the pain
of my youth, my and my parents. She saw my present with my great
struggle to succeed and of my dreams and new found happiness
but after about ten minutes she and I wanted to know of my future
and pleaded for her to go on and finally she spoke. She me a very
vision of where I was going. I told her that I wanted a
phenomenal wealth and and in the cards she saw a fallen hero and
looked at me and said "Be careful you wish for - it might come true,
for the face of death wears the of the King of Mercy". I asked her if
she was sure of what she had seen and a blank stare she turned and
away leaving me with the cards and a haunting that would follow me
the of my life.

Success agreed with me with amazing ease. The more I sold the more
I had of everything - friends, money, women, cars, houses. It was
at one of my nightly hedonisms where a flash individual the room.
He introduced himself as the Doctor. I asked him what of doctor and
he smiled and said, "meet my friend Uncle Sam". The mirror that was
on the wall, my alter ego, was now talking to me from the and the
next three years were a blur. Drugs became the new candy and
became the new Coca and Doctor Rockter was my new best friend and I
never heard the speak again until tonight.

I was at the of my career and the world saw me as I had always wanted
it, The Idol, the Great Crimson Idol. Now I had it seemed,
everything but the one thing that would meant more to me than
anything. The pain that itself into my obsession, the
acceptance of me by my father and mother, who I had not spoken to
I had home.

One morning my manager came in and broke up one of our nightly Easy
Rider Parties. An Easy Rider Party was when everybody would over to
my house, the band, the doctor, hot and cold running etc. And we'd
watch the movie and do everything on the film only a lot more. And
he threatened to leave me if I didn't up. It was not that he cared
about me as a person he was only interested in my talent and I could
do to further his own as a true showbiz mogul. But it was then I
just how far things had gone. So I sat there alone in my palace
of pain and I was numb from the alcohol and the drugs but equally as
intoxicated by my own fame and I had just enough courage to up the
phone and the number. My mind went into a whirlwind thinking of what
happen and the fear overcame me and I started to put down the phone
but before I could a at the other end rang out and it sent a chill
through me that I had known. It was my mother. It was hard for me to
speak, my heart pounding out of my chest but I did I did the best I
could. She was very cold. But I knew the shock of suddenly from me
after all these years was and I was hoping that all the time
that had passed would the deep wounds between my parents and me
but... I desperately wanted them to of me, to accept me - it was
all I ever wanted. I my success would finally prove my worthiness
and they welcome the prodigal son home. All I wanted was for them to
be proud of me but less than 50 words were spoken. The four were "We
no son".

Some wounds never heal and had scarred me for life. A great star fell
from the sky that night and with its left a scorched path in its
way - a great path of before burning out. And on this
night the great is finally here. 'Be careful what you wish for - it
may come true. ' live, long live the King of Mercy.