text_original: And now poor Westmoreland is lost, Our forts are all resigned, Our buildings they are all on fire,   What shelter can we find? They did agree in black and white, If we'd lay down our arms, That all who pleased might quietly Remain upon their farms.
text_transcription: AND NOW POOR WESTMORELAND IS LOST OUR FORTS ARE ALL RESIGNED OUR BUILDINGS THERE ALL ON FIRE WHAT SHELTER CAN WE FIND THEY DID AGREE IN BLACK AND WHITE IF WE'D LAY DOWN OUR ARMS THAT ALL WHO PLEASED MIGHT QUIETLY REMAIN UPON THEIR FARMS
phonemes: ænd nˈaʊ pˈʊɹ wˈɛstmɔːɹlənd ɪz lˈɔst, ˌaʊɚ fˈɔːɹts ɑːɹ ˈɔːl ɹɪzˈaɪnd, ˌaʊɚ bˈɪldɪŋz ðeɪ ɑːɹ ˈɔːl ˌɔn fˈaɪɚ,   wˌʌt ʃˈɛltɚ kæn wiː fˈaɪnd? ðeɪ dˈɪd ɐɡɹˈiː ɪn blˈæk ænd wˈaɪt, ɪf wiːd lˈeɪ dˌaʊn ˌaʊɚɹ ˈɑːɹmz, ðæt ˈɔːl hˌuː plˈiːzd mˌaɪt kwˈaɪətli ɹᵻmˈeɪn əpˌɑːn ðɛɹ fˈɑːɹmz.