text_original: The Prisoner From pacing, pacing without hope or quest He leaned against his window bars to rest And smelt the breeze that crept up from the west.
text_transcription: THE PRISONER FROM PACING PACING WITHOUT HOPE OR QUEST HE LEANED AGAINST HIS WINDOW BARS TO REST AND SMELT THE BREEZE THAT CREPT UP FROM THE WEST
phonemes: ðə pɹˈɪzənɚ fɹʌm pˈeɪsɪŋ, pˈeɪsɪŋ wɪðˌaʊt hˈoʊp ɔːɹ kwˈɛst hiː lˈiːnd ɐɡˈɛnst hɪz wˈɪndoʊ bˈɑːɹz tə ɹˈɛst ænd smˈɛlt ðə bɹˈiːz ðæt kɹˈɛpt ˌʌp fɹʌmðə wˈɛst.