Luyện nghe bài hát Narration

I was born Jonathon Steel, to the parents of William and Elizabeth
steel. I am a Leo, born under the sign of the lion and I was in a
lower middle 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 because his hair was blond. Nevertheless,
the stuck. So when my brother was born my father became Big Red and
my brother Little Red. I should have known from the first when I
realised their special connection, I just didn't fit in to my
father's plans. And as I grew older the comparison between 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
Invisible Boy, the 'black sheep' and I soon figured out that
red and black don't mix. The beatings I became more and more
frequent to the point where I would ask my "Am I the orphaned son
you never need"? But oddly enough I worshipped the ground my father
upon.

My brother and I were a strange mixture, as different as and
dark. back, it's hard to imagine we came from the same parents. I
sometimes wondered if we had the same father, but I always that
idea as my 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
insecurities tried his best to encourage me. For I was born
different and he knew it. He often told me when I was born an angel
over my bed and christened me with a magic 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 them like
the Virgin Mary but with her too my relationship was and not for
the good. She was opinionated, uneducated, prejudiced,
overbearing, everything she read, true or not, and when it came
to religion was to say the least. A mind boggling combination
but she was pretty, very pretty and I would often wonder, on
complete confusion, how a person of this description rationalise life.

This was a series of characteristics many times in my life I would
back on in bewilderment and the women I sought after when I was older
would be nothing like her. In the pain of youth, the of my neglect,
manifest itself in many ways; depression - my enemy, fear - my
friend, hatred - my lover, and anger - for my fire. These four
characteristics of my personality would become the force of my
life and would control everything I did or was to become. I explain
later in the story them which I call my Four 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 obsession with a relentless pursuit of attention. It 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
its precious secret. The mirror lives, it breathes, it talks,
it lies, it has a personality all its own. It is a that grants all
the wishes you ever dream, at least in my case - all except two.

It was my birthday, the day that changed my life forever. My brother
Michael, the one who was my guiding light, my friend, my hero, was
killed by a driver in a head-on collision. He died instantly. I
couldn't even bring myself to go to his funeral. My agony was so 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 living called
'home'. For one year after his death I roamed the in a fog barely
conscious of or anyone. I discovered alcohol, and girls, drugs
and in a life I had never known which was exciting, frightening
and wonderfully dangerous. And it was then as I staggered through a
town city street in one of my drunken rages I across a small
music shop and in the window stood the instrument, the fiery that
would become the of my new found desire. The instrument of my
passion, my obsession, the six string. It was like I'd known
the all my life.

I soon found it was the only way I could truly myself. It was a
way to vent all my frustrations and all my pain - completely all my
Four Doors Of Doom and I myself going to the mirror for counsel less
and less. Because of this my songs seemed to write and I knew
my destiny was in my music but I was going to 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 parents was 'live, work, die. ' And if I
stayed there that was exactly what was going to to me - I was gonna
die. So I ran away to the big city with the lights, excitement and
and a chance for me to live and do my music without the
persecution I had known for so long. I all the way with 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
in the arena for two years trying to get a break in music and
make a record and that's when I ran a delightful business man named
Charlie. He had been a lawyer for 25 before he discovered he could
fuck over more 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 music business to Charlie was nothing
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 lovingly refer to as 'The 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
music comes to die. And through him I learned everything I to know
about the music business and even things I didn't to know. He said he
could make me a star, one of the biggest the world had ever seen.
The big was calling and I was on my way. He introduced me to an
aspiring young manager named Alex Rodman and together we on the whole
world and kicked it square in the ass.

Just before the of my first album I was sitting on the steps in
of my apartment when a gypsy woman passed by. She stopped and asked
me if I would like my fortune and I had never had it done so I was
more happy to say yes. She revealed a deck of Tarot cards and began
to me of my past in which she went into great detail about the pain
of my youth, my brother and my parents. She saw my with my great
struggle to succeed and fulfillment of my dreams and new happiness
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 me a very
disturbing vision of where I was going. I told her I wanted a
phenomenal wealth and fame and in the cards she saw a 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 sure of what she had seen and a blank stare she turned and
walked away me with the cards and a haunting that would follow me
the of my life.

Success agreed with me with ease. The more records 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 himself as the Doctor. I asked him what kind of doctor and
he smiled and said, "meet my Uncle Sam". The mirror that was once
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 and alcohol
became the new Coca Cola and 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 wanted
it, The Idol, the Crimson Idol. Now I had everything it seemed,
everything but the one thing would have meant more to me than
anything. The that manifested itself into my obsession, the
acceptance of me by my father and mother, who I had not to since
I had home.

One morning my manager 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 women etc. And
watch the and do everything going on the film only 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 only interested in my and what I could
do to further his own career as a true showbiz mogul. But it was I
just how far things had gone. So I sat there alone in my palace
of pain and I was just numb from the alcohol and the drugs but as
intoxicated by my own fame and I had just enough courage to up the
phone and dial the number. My mind went into a whirlwind thinking of
would happen and the fear overcame me and I 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 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 from me
after all these years was overwhelming and I was hoping all the time
had passed 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 my success would finally prove my worthiness
and they would welcome the son home. All I wanted was for them to
be proud of me but less than 50 words were spoken. The last four "We
no son".

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