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 of the lion and I was raised in a
lower middle class 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 his hair was sandy blond. Nevertheless,
the name stuck. So when my brother was born my father Big Red and
my brother Red. I should have known from the first time when I
their special connection, that I just didn't fit in to my
father's plans. And as I older the constant comparison between my
brother and myself left little doubt who was the of perfection in my
father's eye. To him, my could do no wrong and I became The
Invisible Boy, the proverbial 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 father "Am I the son
you would never need"? But oddly enough I worshipped the my father
upon.

My brother and I were a mixture, as different as daylight and
dark. back, it's hard to imagine we came from the same parents. I
wondered 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 such a thing. But my brother who had sensed my parent's
instilled insecurities tried his to encourage me. For I was born
and he knew it. He often told me when I was born an angel flew
over my bed and christened me with a magic wand and "You shall 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 and worship them like
the Virgin but with 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 boggling combination
but she was pretty, very pretty and I would wonder, bordering on
complete confusion, how a person of this description rationalise life.

This was a series of characteristics that many times in my I would
look back on in bewilderment and the women I sought when I was older
be nothing like her. In the pain of youth, the misery of my neglect,
would manifest itself in ways; depression - my enemy, fear - my
friend, hatred - my lover, and anger - for my fire. These 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 which I call my Four Doors of Doom.

The mirror, the great 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 place I could go to see inside myself, to love, in an otherwise
loveless household I could be great, where I could 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 all its own. It is a genie that grants all
the wishes you could ever dream, at 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 to go to his funeral. My agony was so great I
couldn't come face to face with him that one last time. My failure to
attend intensified my resentment for me even more. But from that
moment on, nothing seemed to matter, that living hell called
'home'. For one year his death I roamed the streets in a fog barely
conscious of or anyone. I discovered alcohol, and girls, drugs
and in general a life I had never which was exciting, frightening
and wonderfully dangerous. And it was then as I staggered 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 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 - opened all my
Four Doors Of Doom and I found myself going to the mirror for less
and less. of this my songs seemed to write themselves and I knew
my destiny was in my music but I was 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 only my parents knew was 'live, work, die. ' And if I
stayed there was exactly what was going to happen to me - I was gonna
die. So I ran away to the big city with the lights, excitement and
and a for me to finally live and do my music without the
persecution I had for so long. I hitchhiked 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 the 'Arena Of Pleasure'. I lived and
struggled in the for two years trying to get a break in music and
make a record and that's when I ran across a delightful man named
Charlie. He had been a lawyer for 25 years before he discovered he
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 record
companies in the world. The music business to was nothing more
than a sacrificial lamb to be led to slaughter and the weapon of
was his record company that wield like a mighty sword. The great tool
he would lovingly to as 'The Chainsaw'. The morgue, Charlie said,
was the music business everyone sells out. Where all the artists
eventually whore themselves to commercialism, the place where the
music comes to die. And through him I learned everything I needed to
about the music business and even things I didn't to know. He said he
could make me a star, one of the biggest things the world had seen.
The big time was and I was on my way. He introduced me to an
aspiring young manager named Alex Rodman and we took on the whole
fucking and kicked it square in the ass.

Just before the release of my 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 my fortune read and I had never had it done so I was
more than happy to say yes. She revealed a deck of Tarot cards and
to tell me of my past in which she went into detail about 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 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
phenomenal wealth and fame and in the cards she saw a fallen and
looked at me and said "Be careful what you wish for - it come true,
for the face of death wears the mask of the of Mercy". I asked her if
she was of what she had seen and with a blank stare she turned and
away leaving me with the cards and a haunting that would follow me
the of my life.

Success agreed me with amazing 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 introduced himself as the Doctor. I asked him kind of doctor and
he smiled and said, "meet my friend Sam". The mirror that was once
on the wall, my ego, was now talking to me from the table and the
next three years were a blur. became the new candy and alcohol
became the new Coca Cola and Rockter was my new best friend and I
never heard the speak again until tonight.

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

One morning my manager Alex came in and broke up one of our Easy
Rider Parties. An Rider 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 to leave 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 further his own career as a true showbiz mogul. But it was I
realised 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 but equally as
intoxicated by my own fame and I had enough courage 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 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 of suddenly hearing from me
after all these years was and I was hoping that all the time
had passed would heal the deep 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 they would the prodigal son home. All I wanted was for them to
be proud of me but less than 50 words were spoken. The four were "We
no son".

Some wounds heal and mine had scarred me for life. A great star fell
from the sky that night and with its 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. ' Long live, long the King of Mercy.