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

My brother and I 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 always dismissed
idea as my mother was far too religious, my as well, to ever even
think of such a thing. But my brother who had always sensed my
instilled insecurities his best to encourage me. For I was born
different and he knew it. He often told me when I was born an 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 mother on a pedestal and them like
the Virgin Mary but with her too my was different and not for
the good. She was opinionated, uneducated, prejudiced,
overbearing, believed she read, true or not, and when it came
to religion was over-zealous to say the least. A boggling combination
but she was pretty, very pretty and I would often wonder, on
complete confusion, how a person of this could rationalise life.

This was a series of characteristics that many times in my life I
look on in bewilderment and the women I sought after when I was older
would be nothing like her. In the of youth, the misery of my neglect,
manifest itself in many ways; depression - my enemy, fear - my
friend, hatred - my lover, and anger - fuel for my fire. four
characteristics of my personality would the guiding force of my
life and would control everything I did or was to become. I explain
later in the story about them which I my Four Doors 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 with a 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 inside myself, to find love, in an
loveless household where I could be great, I could be anything or
anyone I wanted to be - one percent pure escapism until I
its precious secret. The mirror lives, it breathes, it talks,
it lies, it has a all its own. It is a genie that grants all
the wishes you could ever dream, at least in my - all except two.

It was my 14th birthday, the day that changed my life forever. My
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 even bring myself to go to his funeral. My was so great I
just couldn't come face to with him that one last time. My failure to
intensified my parents' resentment for me even more. But from that
moment on, nothing seemed to matter, especially that living called
'home'. For one year after his death I the streets in a fog barely
conscious of anything or anyone. I discovered alcohol, and girls,
and in general a I had never known which was exciting, frightening
and wonderfully dangerous. And it was as I staggered through a down
town city street in one of my drunken rages I stumbled a small
shop and in the window stood the instrument, the fiery tool that
would become the object of my new found desire. The 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 could 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 myself to the mirror for counsel less
and less. Because of this my songs seemed to write themselves and I
my destiny was in my music but I was 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
stayed there that was what was going to happen to me - I was gonna
die. So I ran to the big city with the lights, excitement and danger
and a chance for me to finally and do my music without the
persecution I had known for so long. I all the way with a
in one hand and my guitar in the other and as I stood at the edge
of the city the of the place was incredibly intense. It was to be my
new home the place I would call the 'Arena Of Pleasure'. I and
struggled in the arena for two years trying to get a break in and
a record and that's when I ran across a delightful business man named
Charlie. He had been a lawyer for 25 years before he discovered he
fuck over more people in the industry then he ever could in a
court of law and he was the of one of the biggest record
companies in the world. The music business to Charlie was more
than a sacrificial to be led to slaughter and the weapon of choice
was his record company he'd wield like a mighty sword. The great tool
he would lovingly refer to as 'The Chainsaw'. The morgue, said,
was the music business where everyone sells out. Where all the
will eventually 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 time was 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 first 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 fortune 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 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 fulfillment of my dreams and new found
but after about ten she stopped and I wanted to know of my future
and pleaded for her to go on and finally she spoke. She showed me a
vision of where I was going. I told her that I wanted a
phenomenal wealth and fame and in the cards she saw a fallen and
at me and said "Be careful what 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 sure of she had seen and with a blank stare she turned and
walked away leaving me with the cards and a haunting that follow me
the of my life.

Success agreed with me with amazing ease. The more records I 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 kind of and
he smiled and said, "meet my friend Sam". The mirror that was once
on the wall, my alter ego, was now to me from the table and the
next three years a blur. Drugs became the new candy and alcohol
became the new Cola and Doctor Rockter was my new best friend and I
heard the mirror speak again until tonight.

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

One morning my Alex came in and broke up one of our nightly Easy
Rider Parties. An Rider Party was when everybody would come over to
my house, the band, the doctor, hot and cold running etc. And we'd
watch the and do everything going on the film only a lot more. And
he threatened to 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 his own career 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 from the alcohol and the drugs but equally as
intoxicated by my own fame and I had just enough to pick up the
phone and dial the number. My mind into a whirlwind thinking of what
would happen and the fear me and I started to put down the phone
but before I could a voice at the other end rang out and it sent a
through me I had never known. It was my mother. It was hard for me to
speak, my pounding out of my chest but when I did I did the best I
could. She was very cold. But I knew the of suddenly hearing from me
after all these years was and I was hoping that all the time
that had passed would heal the wounds between my parents and me
but... I desperately wanted to approve of me, to accept me - it was
all I ever wanted. I hoped my success finally prove my worthiness
and would welcome the prodigal son home. All I wanted was for them to
be proud of me but less than 50 words were spoken. The last were "We
no son".

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