text_original: False moon! False moon! O waning moon! Where is my own true lover gone, Where are the lips vermilion, The shepherd's crook, the purple shoon? Why spread that silver pavilion, Why wear that veil of drifting mist?
text_transcription: FALSE MOON FALSE MOON O WANING MOON WHERE IS MY OWN TRUE LOVER GONE WHERE ARE THE LIPS OF VERMILION THE SHEPHERD'S CROOK THE PURPLE SHOON WHY SPREAD THAT SILVER PAVILION WHY WEAR THAT VEIL OF DRIFTING MIST
phonemes: fˈɔls mˈuːn! fˈɔls mˈuːn! ˈoʊ wˈeɪnɪŋ mˈuːn! wˌɛɹ ɪz maɪ ˈoʊn tɹˈuː lˈʌvɚ ɡˈɔn, wˌɛɹ ɑːɹ ðə lˈɪps vɜːmˈɪliən, ðə ʃˈɛpɚdz kɹˈʊk, ðə pˈɜːpəl ʃˈuːn? wˌaɪ spɹˈɛd ðæt sˈɪlvɚ pɐvˈɪliən, wˌaɪ wˈɛɹ ðæt vˈeɪl ʌv dɹˈɪftɪŋ mˈɪst?