Luyện nghe bài hát Narration

I was born Jonathon Aaron Steel, to the parents of William and
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 father's was Red which I
could never understand why his hair was sandy blond. Nevertheless,
the name stuck. So my brother was born my father became Big Red and
my brother Little Red. I should have known from the time when I
their special connection, that I just didn't fit in to my
father's plans. And as I grew older the comparison between my
brother and myself left little 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 proverbial 'black and I soon figured out that
red and black don't mix. The I received became more and more
frequent to the point I would ask my father "Am I the orphaned son
you would 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 to imagine we came from the same parents. I
sometimes wondered if we had the same father, but I always that
idea as my mother was far too religious, my as well, to ever even
of such a thing. But my brother who had always sensed my parent's
instilled insecurities his best to encourage me. For I was born
different and he knew it. He often told me 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 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 with her too my was different and not for
the good. She was opinionated, uneducated, prejudiced,
overbearing, believed everything she read, true or not, and when it
to religion was to say the least. A mind boggling combination
but she was pretty, very pretty and I would wonder, bordering on
complete confusion, how a person of this description could life.

This was a series of characteristics that times in my life I would
look back on in bewilderment and the women I sought when I was older
would be nothing like her. In the of youth, the misery of my neglect,
would manifest itself in ways; depression - my enemy, fear - my
friend, hatred - my lover, and anger - fuel for my fire. 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 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 I could be great, where I could be anything or
anyone I wanted to be - one hundred 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 wishes you could 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 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 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 my parents' resentment for me even more. But from that
moment on, seemed to matter, especially that living hell called
'home'. For one year his death I roamed the streets in a fog barely
of anything or anyone. I discovered alcohol, and girls, drugs
and in general a I had never known which was exciting, frightening
and dangerous. And it was then 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 six string. It was like 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 Of Doom and I found 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 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
nowhere and the thing my parents 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 for me to finally live 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 magic of the was incredibly intense. It was to be my
new home the place I would call the Of Pleasure'. I lived and
struggled in the arena for two years to get a break in music and
make a record and when I ran across a delightful business man named
Charlie. He had a lawyer for 25 years 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 to Charlie was nothing more
than a lamb to be led to slaughter and the weapon of choice
was his company that he'd wield like a mighty sword. The great tool
he would lovingly refer to as 'The Chainsaw'. The morgue, said,
was the business where everyone sells out. Where all the artists
will eventually themselves to commercialism, the place where the
comes to die. And through him I learned everything I needed to know
about the music and even 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 manager named Alex Rodman and together we took on the whole
fucking and kicked 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 by. She stopped and asked
me if I would like my fortune read and I had never had it so I was
more than happy to say yes. She a deck of Tarot cards and began
to tell me of my past in she went into great detail about the pain
of my youth, my and my parents. She saw my present with my great
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
vision of where I was going. I told 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 what you for - it might come true,
for the face of death wears the 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 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 hedonisms where a flash individual entered the room.
He himself as the Doctor. I asked him what kind of doctor and
he smiled and said, "meet my friend 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 candy and
became the new Coca Cola and Doctor was my new best friend and I
never the mirror speak 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
acceptance of me by my and mother, who I had not spoken to since
I had home.

One morning my manager came in and broke up one of our nightly Easy
Parties. An Easy 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 movie and do everything on the film only a lot more. And
he threatened to leave me if I clean up. It was not that he cared
about me as a person he was only interested in my and what I could
do to further his own as a true showbiz mogul. But it was then I
realised just how far had gone. So I sat there alone in my palace
of pain and I was just numb from the alcohol and the but equally 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 fear overcame me and I started to put down the
but before I could a voice at the end rang 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 when I did I did the I
could. She was very cold. But I knew the shock of suddenly hearing me
after all these years was overwhelming and I was hoping all the time
that had passed heal the deep wounds between my parents and me
but... I desperately wanted them to of me, to accept me - it was
all I wanted. I hoped 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 were "We
no son".

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