text_original: Around this fire a crooked little dwarf was dancing and as he danced he sang: "To day I brew, to night I bake, To morrow I the young prince take, For none could guess, unless they were told That Brittle Legs is the name I hold."
text_transcription: AROUND THIS FIRE A CROOKED LITTLE DWARF WAS DANCING AND AS HE DANCED HE SANG TO DAY I BREW TO NIGHT I BAKE TO MORROW I THE YOUNG PRINCE TAKE FOR NONE COULD GUESS UNLESS THEY WERE TOLD THAT BRITTLEGS IS THE NAME I HOLD
phonemes: ɚɹˈaʊnd ðɪs fˈaɪɚɹ ɐ kɹˈʊkɪd lˈɪɾəl dwˈɔːɹf wʌz dˈænsɪŋ ænd æz hiː dˈænst hiː sˈæŋ: "tə dˈeɪ aɪ bɹˈuː, tə nˈaɪt aɪ bˈeɪk, tə mˈɑːɹoʊ aɪ ðə jˈʌŋ pɹˈɪns tˈeɪk, fɔːɹ nˈʌn kʊd ɡˈɛs, ʌnlˈɛs ðeɪ wɜː tˈoʊld ðæt bɹˈɪɾəl lˈɛɡz ɪz ðə nˈeɪm aɪ hˈoʊld."