text_original: When wooded hills with crimson light Are bright, We'll stroll where trees and vines are growing, And see birds warp their southern flight At sundown, when the Day King's throwing Sly kisses to the Queen of Night.
text_transcription: WHEN WOODED HILLS WITH CRIMSON LIGHT ARE BRIGHT WE'LL STROLL WHERE TREES AND VINES ARE GROWING AND SEA BIRDS WARP THEIR SOUTHERN FLIGHT AT SUNDOWN WHEN THE DAY KING'S THROWING SLY KISSES TO THE QUEEN OF NIGHT
phonemes: wˌɛn wˈʊdᵻd hˈɪlz wɪð kɹˈɪmsən lˈaɪt ɑːɹ bɹˈaɪt, wiːl stɹˈoʊl wˌɛɹ tɹˈiːz ænd vˈaɪnz ɑːɹ ɡɹˈoʊɪŋ, ænd sˈiː bˈɜːdz wˈɔːɹp ðɛɹ sˈʌðɚn flˈaɪt æt sˈʌndaʊn, wˌɛn ðə dˈeɪ kˈɪŋz θɹˈoʊɪŋ slˈaɪ kˈɪsᵻz tə ðə kwˈiːn ʌv nˈaɪt.