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
middle class family with only one brother Michael whom I love
dearly. He was years my senior. My father's nickname was Red which I
could never understand why his hair was sandy blond. Nevertheless,
the name stuck. So when my 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, I just didn't fit in to my
father's plans. And as I grew the constant comparison between my
brother and myself left little who was the image of perfection in my
father's eye. To him, my brother could do no wrong and I The
Boy, the proverbial 'black sheep' and I soon figured out that
red and black don't mix. The beatings I received more and more
frequent to the point I would ask my father "Am I the orphaned son
you would never need"? But oddly enough I worshipped the my father
upon.

My brother and I were a strange mixture, as different as 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 always that
as my mother was far too religious, my father as well, to ever even
think of such a thing. But my brother who had always sensed my
instilled insecurities tried his to encourage me. For I was born
and he knew 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 what 'The one' was, but as I grew older I began to
understand. Most boys put their on a pedestal and worship them like
the Virgin but with her too my relationship was different and not for
the good. She was opinionated, uneducated, prejudiced,
overbearing, everything she read, true or not, and when it came
to was over-zealous to say the least. A mind boggling combination
but she was pretty, very and I would often wonder, bordering on
complete confusion, how a of this description could rationalise life.

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

The mirror, the great plaything for vanity. The mirror was to
become, at times, my altar of refuge and other, my ego and its
magnificent obsession a relentless pursuit of attention. It served as
a reflection of my own wretchedness and my greatness. It was the
one place I could go to see myself, to find love, in an otherwise
loveless household where I could be great, where I be anything or
anyone I 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 you could 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 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 with him one last time. My failure to
attend intensified my parents' for me even more. But from that
moment on, nothing seemed to matter, especially that hell called
'home'. For one year after his death I roamed the streets in a fog
conscious of or anyone. I discovered alcohol, and girls, drugs
and in general a life I had never known was exciting, frightening
and wonderfully dangerous. And it was then as I staggered through a
town city street in one of my rages I stumbled across a small
music shop and in the window 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 I'd known
the all my life.

I found it was the only way I could truly express myself. It was a
way to vent all my frustrations and all my pain - completely all my
Four Doors Of and I found myself going to the mirror for counsel less
and less. Because of this my songs seemed to write themselves and I
my was in my music but I was going to have to get out of this
backwards town I was in if I was going to succeed. I was 16 going
and the only thing my parents 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 chance for me to 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 stood at the
of the the magic of the place was incredibly intense. It was to be my
new home the place I would the 'Arena Of Pleasure'. I lived and
struggled in the for two years trying to get a break in music and
make a record and that's when I ran across a delightful man named
Charlie. He had a lawyer for 25 years before he discovered he could
fuck more people in the recording industry then he ever could in a
court of law and he was the president of one of the record
companies in the world. The business to Charlie was nothing more
than a sacrificial to be led to slaughter and the weapon of choice
was his record company that he'd wield like a mighty sword. The great
he lovingly refer to as 'The Chainsaw'. The morgue, Charlie said,
was the music where everyone sells out. Where all the artists
will whore themselves to commercialism, the place where the
music comes to die. And through him I everything I needed to know
about the music business and even things I want to know. He said he
could me a star, one of the biggest things the world had ever seen.
The big was calling and I was on my way. He introduced me to an
aspiring manager named Alex Rodman and together we took on the whole
world and kicked it square in the ass.

Just before the release of my album I was sitting on the steps in
front of my apartment when a gypsy passed by. She stopped and asked
me if I would like my read and I had never had it done so I was
than happy to say yes. She revealed a deck of Tarot cards and began
to tell me of my past in which she went into great about the pain
of my youth, my brother and my parents. She saw my present with my
to succeed and fulfillment of my dreams and new found happiness
but after ten minutes she stopped and I wanted to know of my future
and for her to go on and finally she spoke. She showed me a very
disturbing vision of where I was going. I 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 wears the mask of the King of Mercy". I asked her if
she was of what she had seen and with a blank stare she turned and
walked away leaving me with the cards and a that would follow me
the of my life.

Success agreed with me with amazing ease. The more records I sold the
excess I had of - friends, money, women, cars, houses. It was
at one of my hedonisms where a flash individual entered the room.
He introduced himself as the Doctor. I him what kind of doctor and
he smiled and said, "meet my friend Sam". The mirror that was once
on the wall, my ego, was now talking to me from the table and the
next years were a blur. Drugs became the new candy and alcohol
became the new Coca Cola and Doctor was my new best friend and I
heard the mirror 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 that would have meant more to me than
anything. The pain that itself into my obsession, the
of me by my father 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 Rider was when everybody would come over to
my house, the band, the doctor, hot and running women etc. And we'd
watch the movie and do everything going on the film a lot more. And
he to leave me if I didn't clean up. It was not that he cared
about me as a person he was only interested in my talent and what I
do to further his own as a true showbiz mogul. But it was then I
realised just how far things had gone. So I sat there alone in my
of pain and I was just numb from the alcohol and the drugs but as
intoxicated by my own and I had just enough courage to pick up the
phone and the number. My mind went into a whirlwind thinking of what
would happen and the overcame me and I started to put down 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 out of my chest but when I did I did the best I
could. She was very cold. But I knew the shock of hearing from me
all these years was overwhelming and I was hoping that all the time
that had passed would heal the deep between my parents and me
but... I wanted them to approve of me, to accept me - it was
all I wanted. I hoped my success would finally prove my worthiness
and they would 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 and mine had scarred me for life. A great star fell
from the sky that night and with its descent left a path in its
way - a great path of self-destruction before out. And on this
night the great is finally here. 'Be careful what you wish for - it
may come true. ' Long live, long live the of Mercy.