Luyện nghe bài hát Narration

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

My brother and I were a mixture, as different as daylight and
dark. back, it's hard to imagine we came from the same parents. I
wondered if we had the same father, but I always dismissed that
idea as my mother was far too religious, my father as well, to even
think of such a thing. But my brother who had always my parent's
instilled insecurities tried his best to encourage me. For I was
different and he it. He often told 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 what 'The one' was, but as I grew I began to
understand. Most boys put their mother on a pedestal and worship like
the Virgin Mary but with her too my relationship was 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 mind boggling
but she was pretty, pretty and I would often wonder, bordering on
complete confusion, how a person of description could rationalise life.

This was a series of characteristics that times in my life I would
look back on in bewilderment and the women I sought after when I was
would be like her. In the pain of youth, the misery of my neglect,
would manifest itself in many ways; - my enemy, fear - my
friend, hatred - my lover, and anger - fuel for my fire. four
characteristics of my personality would become the guiding of my
life and would control everything I did or was to become. I shall
later in the story about them I call my Four Doors of Doom.

The mirror, the great plaything for man's vanity. The was to
become, at times, my of refuge and other, my alter ego and its
obsession with a relentless pursuit of attention. It served as
a chilling of my own wretchedness and my greatness. It was the
one place I could go to see inside myself, to love, in an otherwise
loveless household where I could be great, where I be anything or
anyone I wanted to be - one hundred percent pure escapism 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 could ever dream, at least in my - all except two.

It was my 14th birthday, the day that my life forever. My brother
Michael, the one who was my guiding light, my friend, my hero, was
killed by a drunk driver in a collision. He died instantly. I
couldn't even bring to go to his funeral. My agony was so great I
just couldn't come face to face him that one last time. My failure to
attend intensified my parents' resentment for me more. But from that
on, nothing 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 I had never known which was exciting, frightening
and wonderfully dangerous. And it was as I staggered through a down
city street in one of my drunken rages I stumbled across a small
music shop and in the window stood the instrument, the tool that
would become the object of my new desire. The instrument of my
passion, my obsession, the blood-red six string. It was I'd known
the all my life.

I soon found it was the only way I truly express myself. It was a
way to vent all my frustrations and all my pain - opened all my
Four Doors Of Doom and I found going to the mirror for counsel less
and less. of this my songs seemed to write themselves and I knew
my was in my music but I was going to have to get out of this
town I was in if I was ever going to succeed. I was 16 going
nowhere and the thing my parents knew was 'live, work, die. ' And if I
there that was exactly what was going to happen to me - I was gonna
die. So I ran away to the big city with the lights, excitement and
and a for me to finally live and do my music without the
persecution I had known for so long. I hitchhiked all the way a
suitcase in one hand and my guitar in the other and as I at the edge
of the the magic of the place was incredibly intense. It was to be my
new the place I would call the 'Arena Of Pleasure'. I lived and
in the arena for two years trying to get a break in music and
make a record and that's when I ran across a delightful business man
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
court of law and he was the president of one of the biggest
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 like a mighty sword. The great tool
he would lovingly refer to as Chainsaw'. The morgue, Charlie said,
was the music business everyone sells out. Where all the artists
will eventually themselves to commercialism, the place where the
comes to die. And through him I learned everything I needed to know
about the music business and even things I didn't want to know. He he
make me a star, one of the biggest things the world had ever seen.
The big time was calling and I was on my way. He me to an
aspiring young manager named Alex Rodman and together we on the whole
world and kicked it square in the ass.

Just the release of my first album I was sitting on the steps in
front of my apartment when a gypsy woman passed by. She stopped and
me if I would like my read and I had never had it done so I was
more than happy to say yes. She a deck of Tarot cards and began
to tell me of my past in she went into great detail about the pain
of my youth, my and my parents. She saw my present with my great
struggle to succeed and fulfillment of my dreams and new 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
disturbing vision of where I was going. I told her that I a
phenomenal wealth and fame and in the she saw a fallen hero and
looked at me and said "Be careful what you wish for - it might true,
for the face of death the mask of the King of Mercy". I asked her if
she was sure of what she had and with 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 records I the more
excess I had of - friends, money, women, cars, houses. It was
at one of my nightly where a flash individual entered the room.
He introduced himself as the Doctor. I asked him what kind of and
he smiled and said, "meet my Uncle Sam". The mirror that was once
on the wall, my ego, was now talking to me from the table and the
three years were a blur. Drugs became the new candy and alcohol
became the new Coca Cola and Doctor Rockter was my new best and I
heard the mirror speak again until tonight.

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

One my manager Alex came in and broke up one of our nightly Easy
Rider Parties. An Easy Party was when everybody would come over to
my house, the band, the doctor, hot and cold women etc. And we'd
watch the movie and do everything going on the film a lot more. And
he threatened to leave me if I didn't clean up. It was not that he
about me as a person he was interested in my talent and what I could
do to further his own as a true showbiz mogul. But it was then I
realised how far things had gone. So I sat there alone in my palace
of pain and I was just numb from the and the drugs but equally as
intoxicated by my own and I had just enough courage to pick up the
and dial the number. My mind went into a whirlwind thinking of what
would happen and the fear overcame me and I started to put the phone
but before I could a voice at the other end rang out and it a chill
through me that I had never known. It was my mother. It was for me to
speak, my heart pounding out of my chest but when I did I did the I
could. She was very cold. But I knew the shock of suddenly hearing me
after all these was overwhelming and I was hoping that all the time
that had passed would heal the deep between my parents and me
but... I desperately wanted them to approve of me, to me - it was
all I ever wanted. I hoped my success would finally my worthiness
and would welcome the prodigal son home. All I wanted was for them to
be proud of me but less 50 words were spoken. The last 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 descent a scorched path in its
way - a great of self-destruction before burning out. And on this
night the great finale is here. 'Be careful what you wish for - it
may come true. ' Long live, long the King of Mercy.