Luyện nghe bài hát Narration

I was Jonathon Aaron Steel, to the parents of William 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 Michael whom I love
dearly. He was five years my senior. My nickname was Red which I
could never understand why because his hair was blond. Nevertheless,
the name stuck. So when my brother was my father became Big Red and
my Little Red. I should have known from the first time when I
realised their 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 left little who was the image of perfection in my
father's eye. To him, my brother could do no and I became 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 where I would ask my "Am I the orphaned son
you would never need"? But 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 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 a thing. But my brother who had always sensed my parent's
insecurities tried his best to encourage me. For I was born
different and he it. He often told me when I was born an angel flew
over my bed and christened me with a magic wand and said "You 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 Virgin Mary but 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 mind boggling
but she was pretty, very pretty and I often wonder, bordering on
complete confusion, how a person of description could rationalise life.

was a series of characteristics that many times in my life I would
look back on in bewilderment and the women I sought after when I was
be nothing 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 - 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 Doors of Doom.

The mirror, the plaything for man's vanity. The mirror was to
become, at times, my altar of and other, my alter ego and its
magnificent with a relentless pursuit of attention. It served as
a reflection of my own wretchedness and my greatness. It was the
one I could go to see inside myself, to find love, in an otherwise
loveless household where I could be great, where I could be or
anyone I wanted to be - one percent pure escapism until I
discovered its secret. The mirror 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 that changed my 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
even bring myself to go to his funeral. My agony was so great I
just couldn't come face to with him that one last time. My failure to
attend my parents' resentment for me even more. But from that
moment on, nothing 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 discovered alcohol, and girls,
and in general a life I had never which was exciting, frightening
and wonderfully dangerous. And it was then as I through a down
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 become the object of my new 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 only way I truly express myself. It was a
way to vent all my frustrations and all my - 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 themselves and I knew
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 only thing my knew was 'live, work, die. ' And if I
stayed there that was exactly what was going to happen to me - I was
die. So I ran away to the big city with the lights, and danger
and a chance for me to finally 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 and as I stood at the edge
of the city the magic of the place was intense. It was to be my
new the place I would call the 'Arena Of Pleasure'. I lived and
struggled in the arena for two years trying to get a 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 then he could in a
court of law and he was the of one of the biggest record
companies in the world. The music to Charlie was nothing more
than a sacrificial lamb to be led to slaughter and the of choice
was his record company that he'd like a mighty sword. The great tool
he would refer to as 'The Chainsaw'. The morgue, Charlie said,
was the business where everyone sells out. Where all the artists
will eventually whore themselves to commercialism, the where the
music comes to die. And through him I learned everything I to know
about the music business and things I didn't want to know. He said he
could make me a star, one of the biggest things the world had seen.
The big time was calling and I was on my way. He me to an
aspiring young manager named Alex and together we took on the whole
fucking world and it square in the ass.

Just before the release of my first album I was on the steps in
front of my apartment when a gypsy woman passed by. She stopped and
me if I would my fortune read and I had never had it done so I was
more than to say yes. She revealed a deck of Tarot cards and began
to tell me of my in which she went into great detail about the pain
of my youth, my brother and my parents. She saw my present 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 for her to go on and finally she spoke. She showed me a very
disturbing vision of where I was going. I told her that I a
wealth and fame and in the cards she saw a fallen hero and
looked at me and said "Be careful what you for - it might come true,
for the face of death wears the mask of the 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 that would follow me
the of my life.

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

I was at the peak of my and the world saw me as I had always wanted
it, The Idol, the Crimson Idol. Now I had everything it seemed,
everything but the one thing that would have meant more to me
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 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 running women etc. And we'd
watch the movie and do everything 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 interested in my talent and what I could
do to his own career as a true showbiz mogul. But it was then I
realised just how far things had gone. So I sat there in my palace
of and I was just numb 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
happen and the fear overcame me and I started to put down the phone
but before I could a voice at the other end out and it sent 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 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 overwhelming and I was that all the time
that had would heal the deep wounds 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 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 last were "We
no son".

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