text_original: " Michael Dwyer still sits in his chair On the red rock up on the mountain there, And the roofless barrack with eyes of bale Stares at him from the heart of the vale. 81 F 82 GLENMALURE " It threats me as I hurry along For the mindfulness of my ceaseless song; But I will sing when stone on stone The baleful walls to dust are gone.
text_transcription: MICHAEL DWYER STILL SITS IN HIS CHAIR ON THE RED ROCK UP ON THE MOUNTAIN THERE AND THE ROOFLESS BARRACK WITH EYES OF BALE STARES AT HIM FROM THE HEART OF THE VEIL IT THREATS ME AS I HURRY ALONG FOR THE MINDFULNESS OF MY CEASELESS SONG BUT I WILL SING WHEN STONE ON STONE THE BALEFUL WALLS TO DUST ARE GONE
phonemes: " mˈaɪkəl dwˈaɪɚ stˈɪl sˈɪts ɪn hɪz tʃˈɛɹ ɔnðə ɹˈɛd ɹˈɑːk ˌʌp ɔnðə mˈaʊntɪn ðˈɛɹ, ænd ðə ɹˈuːfləs bˈɛɹək wɪð ˈaɪz ʌv bˈeɪl stˈɛɹz æt hˌɪm fɹʌmðə hˈɑːɹt ʌvðə vˈeɪl. ˈeɪɾi wˈʌn ˈɛf ˈeɪɾi tˈuː ɡlˈɛnmɐlˌʊɹ " ɪt θɹˈɛts mˌiː æz aɪ hˈɜːɹi ɐlˈɔŋ fɚðə mˈaɪndfəlnəs ʌv maɪ sˈiːsləs sˈɔŋ; bˌʌt aɪ wɪl sˈɪŋ wɛn stˈoʊn ˌɔn stˈoʊn ðə bˈeɪlfəl wˈɔːlz tə dˈʌst ɑːɹ ɡˈɔn.