text_original: An' savin' your presence, just here in the warm o' my breast, Where the two little weeshie wans cuddled like birds in a nest Is a couple o' patchety scars, like a burn leaves behind. They're as white as the bog flowers that blows in the breath o' the wind. Och, sure, but they left their own mark on me.
text_transcription: AND SAVE IN YOUR PRESENCE JUST HERE IN THE WARM OF MY BREAST WHERE THE TWO LITTLE WISHY ONES CUDDLED LIKE BIRDS IN A NEST IS A COUPLE OF PITCHETY SCARS LIKE A BURN LEAVES BEHIND THEY'RE AS WHITE AS THE BOG FLOWERS THAT BLOWS IN THE BREATH OF THE WIND OH SURE BUT THEY LEFT THEIR OWN MARK ON ME
phonemes: æn sˈævɪn jʊɹ pɹˈɛzəns, dʒˈʌst hˈɪɹ ɪnðə wˈɔːɹm ˈoʊ maɪ bɹˈɛst, wˌɛɹ ðə tˈuː lˈɪɾəl wˈiːʃi wˈænz kˈʌdəld lˈaɪk bˈɜːdz ɪn ɐ nˈɛst ɪz ɐ kˈʌpəl ˈoʊ pˈætʃɪɾi skˈɑːɹz, lˈaɪk ɐ bˈɜːn lˈiːvz bᵻhˈaɪnd. ðeɪɚɹ æz wˈaɪt æz ðə bˈɑːɡ flˈaʊɚz ðæt blˈoʊz ɪnðə bɹˈɛθ ˈoʊ ðə wˈɪnd. ˈɑːk, ʃˈʊɹ, bˌʌt ðeɪ lˈɛft ðɛɹ ˈoʊn mˈɑːɹk ˈɔn mˌiː.