text_original: She wants me fer home consumption, Let alone the hay's to mow   Ef you're arter folks o' gumption, You've a darned long row to hoe. Take them editors thet's crowin' Like a cockerel three months old   Don't ketch any on 'em goin', Though they _be_ so blasted bold; _Ain't_ they a prime lot o' fellers? 'Fore they think on't they will sprout (Like a peach thet's got the yellers), With the meanness bustin' out.
text_transcription: SHE WANTS ME FOR HOME CONSUMPTION LET ALONE THE HAY'S TO MOW EF YOU'RE OTTER FOLKS A GUMPTION YOU'VE A DARN LONG ROAD O HO TAKE THEM EDITORS THAT'S CROWIN LIKE A COCKRAL THREE MONTHS OLD DON'T CATCH ANY ON HIM GOIN THO THEY BE SO BLASTED PULLED AIN'T THEY A PRIME LOT A FELLERS FOR THEY THINK ON'T THEY WILL SPROUT LIKE A PEACH THAT'S GOT TO YELLERS WITH THE MEANNESS BUSTIN OUT
phonemes: ʃiː wˈɔnts mˌiː fˈɜː hˈoʊm kənsˈʌmpʃən, lˈɛt ɐlˈoʊn ðə hˈeɪz tə mˈoʊ ˈɛf jʊɹ ˈɑːɹɾɚ fˈoʊks ˈoʊ ɡˈʌmpʃən, juːv ɐ dˈɑːɹnd lˈɔŋ ɹˈoʊ tə hˈoʊ. tˈeɪk ðˌɛm ˈɛdɪɾɚz θˈɛts kɹˈoʊɪn lˈaɪk ɐ kˈɑːkɚɹəl θɹˈiː mˈʌnθs ˈoʊld dˈoʊnt kˈɛtʃ ˌɛni ˌɔn ˈɛm ɡˌoʊɪn, ðˌoʊ ðeɪ biː sˌoʊ blˈæstᵻd bˈoʊld; ˈeɪnt ðeɪ ɐ pɹˈaɪm lˈɑːt ˈoʊ fˈɛlɚz? fˈɔːɹ ðeɪ θˈɪŋk ˈɑːnt ðeɪ wɪl spɹˈaʊt (lˈaɪk ɐ pˈiːtʃ θˈɛts ɡɑːt ðə jˈɛlɚz), wɪððə mˈiːnnəs bˈʌstɪn ˈaʊt.