text_original: Fingers were cold and feet were cold. And the tide was cold and rough ; But the light was warm, and the room was warm. And the world was good enough. RETURN OF MORGAN AND FINGAL 107 And there were the pipes, and there was the punch, More shrewd than Satan's tears : Fingal had fashioned it, all by himself. With a craft that comes of years.
text_transcription: FINGERS WERE COLD AND FEET WERE COLD AND THE TIDE WAS COLD AND ROUGH BUT THE LIGHT WAS WARM AND THE ROOM WAS WARM AND THE WORLD WAS GOOD ENOUGH AND THERE WERE THE PIPES AND THERE WAS THE PUNCH MORE SHREWD THAN SATAN'S TEARS FINGAL HAD FASHIONED IT ALL BY HIMSELF WITH A CRAFT THAT COMES OF YEARS
phonemes: fˈɪŋɡɚz wɜː kˈoʊld ænd fˈiːt wɜː kˈoʊld. ænd ðə tˈaɪd wʌz kˈoʊld ænd ɹˈʌf ; bˌʌt ðə lˈaɪt wʌz wˈɔːɹm, ænd ðə ɹˈuːm wʌz wˈɔːɹm. ænd ðə wˈɜːld wʌz ɡˈʊd ɪnˈʌf. ɹᵻtˈɜːn ʌv mˈɔːɹɡən ænd fˈɪŋɡəl wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd sˈɛvən ænd ðɛɹwˌɜː ðə pˈaɪps, ænd ðɛɹwˌʌz ðə pˈʌntʃ, mˈɔːɹ ʃɹˈuːd ðɐn sˈeɪtənz tˈɪɹz : fˈɪŋɡəl hæd fˈæʃənd ɪt, ˈɔːl baɪ hɪmsˈɛlf. wɪð ɐ kɹˈæft ðæt kˈʌmz ʌv jˈɪɹz.