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 of the lion and I was raised in a
lower class family with only one brother Michael whom I love
dearly. He was five years my senior. My father's was Red which I
never understand why because his hair was sandy blond. Nevertheless,
the name stuck. So when my was born my father became Big Red and
my brother Little Red. I should have 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 the constant comparison between my
brother and myself left little doubt who was the image of in my
father's eye. To him, my brother could do no and I became The
Invisible Boy, the proverbial 'black sheep' and I soon out that
red and don't mix. The beatings I received became more and more
frequent to the point where I ask my father "Am I the orphaned son
you never need"? But oddly 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 wondered if we had the 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 sensed my
instilled insecurities tried his best to encourage me. For I was
different and he knew it. He often told me 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 what 'The one' was, but as I 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, true or not, and it came
to religion was over-zealous to say the least. A boggling combination
but she was pretty, pretty and I would often wonder, bordering on
confusion, how a person of this description could rationalise life.

This was a series of characteristics that many in my life I would
look back on in 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 many ways; depression - my enemy, - my
friend, hatred - my lover, and anger - fuel for my fire. These
characteristics of my personality become the guiding force of my
life and would control I did or was to become. I shall explain
later in the story about them which I my Four Doors of Doom.

The mirror, the great plaything for man's vanity. The was to
become, at times, my altar of refuge and other, my ego and its
magnificent obsession with a relentless of attention. It served as
a chilling reflection of my own 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, I could 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 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 who was my guiding light, my friend, my hero, was
killed by a drunk in a head-on 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 with him that one last time. My failure to
attend intensified my parents' resentment for me even more. But that
moment on, nothing seemed to matter, especially that hell called
'home'. For one after his death 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 dangerous. And it was then as I staggered through a down
city street in one of my drunken rages I stumbled across a small
music and in the window stood the instrument, the fiery tool that
would become the 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 soon found it was the way I could 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 myself going to the mirror for counsel less
and less. of this my songs seemed to write themselves and I knew
my destiny was in my music but I was going to to get out of this
backwards town I was in if I was ever to succeed. I was 16 going
and the only thing my parents knew was 'live, work, die. ' And if I
stayed that was exactly what was going to happen to me - I was gonna
die. So I ran away to the big city the lights, excitement and danger
and a chance for me to finally live and do my music the
persecution I had for so long. I hitchhiked all the way with a
suitcase in one hand and my guitar in the other and as I at the edge
of the city the magic of the 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 to get a break in music and
make a record and that's when I ran across a delightful business man
Charlie. He had been a lawyer for 25 before he discovered he could
over more people in the recording industry then 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 Charlie was nothing
than a lamb 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 would lovingly to as 'The Chainsaw'. The morgue, Charlie said,
was the music where everyone sells out. Where all the artists
will eventually whore themselves to commercialism, the where the
music to die. And through him I learned everything I needed to know
about the business and even things I didn't want to know. He said 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 took on the
fucking world and 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 and asked
me if I would like my read and I had never had it done so I was
more than happy to say yes. She revealed a deck of cards and began
to tell me of my past in which she went into great detail the pain
of my youth, my brother and my parents. She saw my present my great
struggle to succeed and fulfillment of my dreams and new happiness
but after ten minutes 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 that I a
phenomenal wealth and fame and in the she saw a fallen hero and
looked at me and said "Be careful you wish 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 what she had seen and with a blank she turned and
walked away leaving me with the cards and a haunting that follow me
the of my life.

Success with me with amazing ease. The more records I sold the more
I had of everything - 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 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 from the and the
next three years were a blur. Drugs the new candy and alcohol
became the new Coca Cola and Doctor Rockter was my new 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 meant to me than
anything. The pain that 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 Alex came in and broke up one of our nightly
Rider Parties. An Easy Rider Party was when would come over to
my house, the band, the doctor, hot and cold running etc. And we'd
the movie and do everything going on the film only a lot more. And
he threatened to leave me if I didn't up. It was not that he cared
about me as a person he was interested in my talent and what I could
do to further his own career as a true showbiz mogul. But it was I
realised just how far things had gone. So I sat 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 to pick up the
phone and the number. My mind went into a whirlwind thinking of what
would and the fear overcame me and I started to put down the phone
but I could a voice at the other end rang out and it sent a chill
through me that I had 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 overwhelming and I was hoping all the time
had passed would heal the deep wounds between my parents and me
but... I desperately 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 welcome the prodigal son home. All I 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
the sky that night and with its descent left a scorched path in its
way - a path of self-destruction before burning 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.