text_original: Bells At six o'clock of an autumn dusk With the sky in the west a rusty red, The bells of the mission down in the valley Cry out that the day is dead. The first star pricks as sharp as steel   Why am I suddenly so cold?
text_transcription: BELLS AT SIX O'CLOCK OF AN AUTUMN DUSK WITH THE SKY IN THE WEST A RUSTY RED THE BELTS OF THE MISSION DOWN IN THE VALLEY CRY OUT THAT THE DAY IS DEAD THE FIRST STAR PRICKS AS SHARP AS STEEL WHY AM I SUDDENLY SO COLD
phonemes: bˈɛlz æt sˈɪks əklˈɑːk əvən ˈɔːɾʌm dˈʌsk wɪððə skˈaɪ ɪnðə wˈɛst ɐ ɹˈʌsti ɹˈɛd, ðə bˈɛlz ʌvðə mˈɪʃən dˌaʊn ɪnðə vˈæli kɹˈaɪ ˈaʊt ðætðə dˈeɪ ɪz dˈɛd. ðə fˈɜːst stˈɑːɹ pɹˈɪks æz ʃˈɑːɹp æz stˈiːl wˌaɪ æm aɪ sˈʌdənli sˌoʊ kˈoʊld?