text_original: 'Tain't your eppyletts an' feathers Make the thing a grain more right; 'Tain't a follerin' your bell wethers Will excuse ye in His sight; Ef you take a sword an' dror it, An' go stick a feller thru, Guv'ment ain't to answer for it, God'll send the bill to you.
text_transcription: TAIN'T YOUR EPAULETS AND FEATHERS MAKE THE THING A GRAIN MORE RIGHT TAIN'T A FOLLER IN YOUR BELL WEATHERS WE'LL EXCUSE YOU IN HIS SIGHT IF YOU TAKE A SWORD AN DRAW IT AND GO STICK A FELLER THROUGH GOVERNMENT AIN'T TO ANSWER FOR IT GOT'LL SEND BILL TO YOU
phonemes: tˈeɪnt jʊɹ ˈɛpilɪts æn fˈɛðɚz mˌeɪk ðə θˈɪŋ ɐ ɡɹˈeɪn mˈɔːɹ ɹˈaɪt; tˈeɪnt ɐ fˈɑːlɚɹˌɪn jʊɹ bˈɛl wˈɛðɚz wɪl ɛkskjˈuːs jiː ɪn hɪz sˈaɪt; ˈɛf juː tˈeɪk ɐ sˈɔːɹd æn dɹˈɔːɹ ɪt, æn ɡˌoʊ stˈɪk ɐ fˈɛlɚ θɹˈuː, ɡˈʌvmənt ˈeɪnt tʊ ˈænsɚ fɔːɹ ɪt, ɡˈɑːdəl sˈɛnd ðə bˈɪl tə juː.