Luyện nghe bài hát Narration

I was born Aaron 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 his hair was sandy blond. Nevertheless,
the name stuck. So my brother was born my father became Big Red and
my Little Red. I should have known from the first time when I
realised their special connection, that I just fit in to my
father's plans. And as I grew the constant 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 never need"? But oddly enough I worshipped the ground my
upon.

My brother and I were a strange mixture, as as daylight and
dark. Looking back, hard to imagine we came from the same parents. I
sometimes wondered if we had the same father, but I dismissed that
idea as my mother was far too religious, my father as well, to ever
think of such a thing. But my brother who had always sensed my
instilled insecurities tried his to encourage me. For I was born
different and he knew it. He often me when I was born an angel flew
my bed and christened me with a magic wand and said "You shall be the
one". And I had no idea what 'The one' was, but as I grew I began to
understand. boys put their mother on a pedestal and worship them like
the Mary but with her too my relationship was different and not for
the good. She was opinionated, uneducated, prejudiced,
overbearing, everything she read, true or not, and when it came
to religion was over-zealous to say the least. A mind combination
but she was pretty, very pretty and I would wonder, bordering on
complete confusion, how a of this 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 I was older
would be nothing her. In the pain of youth, the misery of my neglect,
would manifest in many ways; depression - my enemy, fear - my
friend, hatred - my lover, and - fuel for my fire. These four
characteristics of my would become the guiding force of my
life and would control I did or was to become. I shall explain
later in the story them which I call my Four Doors of Doom.

The mirror, the great for man's vanity. The mirror was to
become, at times, my of refuge and other, my alter ego and its
magnificent obsession with a relentless of attention. It served as
a reflection of my own wretchedness and my greatness. It was the
one place I could go to see myself, to find love, in an otherwise
loveless where I could be great, where I could be anything or
anyone I wanted to be - one hundred percent escapism until 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 you could ever dream, at least in my case - all except two.

It was my 14th birthday, the day that my life 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
couldn't bring myself to go to his funeral. My agony was so great I
just couldn't come face to face 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, especially living hell called
'home'. For one after his death I roamed the streets in a fog barely
conscious of anything or anyone. I alcohol, and girls, drugs
and in general a life I had known 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
become the object 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 only way I could express myself. It was a
way to vent all my frustrations and all my pain - completely all my
Doors 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 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
there that was exactly what was going to happen to me - I was gonna
die. So I ran away to the big city with the lights, and danger
and a chance for me to finally live and do my without the
I had known for so long. I hitchhiked 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 was incredibly intense. It was to be my
new home the place I call the 'Arena Of Pleasure'. I lived 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 man named
Charlie. He had been a lawyer for 25 before he discovered he could
fuck over more people in the recording industry then he ever in a
court of law and he was the president of one of the record
in the world. The music business to Charlie was nothing more
than a sacrificial 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 where everyone out. Where all the artists
will eventually whore themselves to commercialism, the where the
music comes to die. And through him I 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 the world had ever seen.
The big time was calling and I was on my way. He me to an
young manager named Alex Rodman and together we took on the whole
fucking world and kicked it in the ass.

Just before the release of my album I was sitting on the steps in
front of my apartment when a gypsy passed by. She stopped and asked
me if I would like my read 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 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 found
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 showed me a
disturbing of where I was going. I told her that I wanted a
phenomenal wealth and fame and in the cards she saw a hero and
looked at me and "Be careful what you wish for - it might come true,
for the face of death wears the mask of the King of Mercy". I her if
she was sure of what she had seen and 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 what 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 the table and the
next three years were a blur. became the new candy and alcohol
the new Coca Cola and Doctor Rockter was my new best friend and I
never 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 have meant more to me than
anything. The that manifested itself into my obsession, the
acceptance of me by my and mother, who I had not spoken to since
I had home.

One morning my manager Alex came in and broke up one of our nightly
Rider Parties. An Easy 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 me if I didn't clean up. It was not that he cared
about me as a person he was only in my talent and what I could
do to further his own as a true showbiz mogul. But it was then I
realised just how far things had gone. So I sat there alone in my
of pain and I was just numb from the and the drugs but equally as
intoxicated by my own fame and I had enough courage to pick up the
phone and dial the number. My mind went into a 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
me that I had never 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 shock of suddenly from me
after all these years was overwhelming and I was hoping that all the
that had 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 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 than 50 words spoken. The last four were "We
no son".

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