text_original: Ballade of Dead Friends As we the withered ferns By the roadway lying, Time, the jester, spurns All our prayers and prying    All our tears and sighing, Sorrow, change, and woe    All our where and whying For friends that come and go.
text_transcription: BALLAD OF DEAD FRIENDS AS WE THE WITHERED FERNS BY THE ROADWAY LYING TIME THE JESTUS BURNS ALL OUR PRAYERS AND PRYING ALL OUR TEARS AND SIGHING SORROW CHANGE AND WOE ALL OUR WEAR AND WHYING FOR FRIENDS THAT COME AND GO
phonemes: bˈæleɪd ʌv dˈɛd fɹˈɛndz æz wiː ðə wˈɪðɚd fˈɜːnz baɪ ðə ɹˈoʊdweɪ lˈaɪɪŋ, tˈaɪm, ðə dʒˈɛstɚ, spˈɜːnz ˈɔːl ˌaʊɚ pɹˈɛɹz ænd pɹˈaɪɪŋ ˈɔːl ˌaʊɚ tˈɪɹz ænd sˈaɪɪŋ, sˈɑːɹoʊ, tʃˈeɪndʒ, ænd wˈoʊ ˈɔːl ˌaʊɚ wˌɛɹ ænd wˈaɪɪŋ fɔːɹ fɹˈɛndz ðæt kˈʌm ænd ɡˈoʊ.