text_original: Bob White!" But oh! there is joy in the knowing That somewhere green pastures are growing, Though out of sight. And the light on those church spires dying, On the old home meadow is lying.
text_transcription: BOB WHITE BUT OH THERE IS JOY IN THE KNOWING THAT SOMEWHERE GREEN PASTURES ARE GROWING THOUGH OUT OF SIGHT AND THE LIGHT ON THOSE CHURCH SPIRES DYING ON THE OLD HOME MEADOW IS LYING
phonemes: bˈɑːb wˈaɪt!" bˌʌt ˈoʊ! ðɛɹ ɪz dʒˈɔɪ ɪnðə nˈoʊɪŋ ðæt sˈʌmwɛɹ ɡɹˈiːn pˈæstʃɚz ɑːɹ ɡɹˈoʊɪŋ, ðˌoʊ ˌaʊɾəv sˈaɪt. ænd ðə lˈaɪt ˌɔn ðoʊz tʃˈɜːtʃ spˈaɪɚz dˈaɪɪŋ, ɔnðɪ ˈoʊld hˈoʊm mˈɛdoʊ ɪz lˈaɪɪŋ.