text_original: To drift and drift with our white sail black In the dreamful light of the skies, Till the pale stars die, and some far fair shore Comes up through the morning haze, And wandering hearts shall not wander more Far off from the mad world's ways.
text_transcription: TO DRIFT AND DRIFT WITH OUR WHITE SAIL BLACK IN THE DREAMFUL LIGHT OF THE SKIES TILL THE PALE STARS DIE AND SOME FAR FAIR SHORE COMES UP THROUGH THE MORNING HAZE AND WONDERING HEARTS SHALL NOT WANDER MORE FAR OFF FROM THE MAD WORLD'S WAYS
phonemes: tə dɹˈɪft ænd dɹˈɪft wɪð ˌaʊɚ wˈaɪt sˈeɪl blˈæk ɪnðə dɹˈiːmfəl lˈaɪt ʌvðə skˈaɪz, tˈɪl ðə pˈeɪl stˈɑːɹz dˈaɪ, ænd sˌʌm fˈɑːɹ fˈɛɹ ʃˈɔːɹ kˈʌmz ˌʌp θɹuː ðə mˈɔːɹnɪŋ hˈeɪz, ænd wˈɔndɚɹɪŋ hˈɑːɹts ʃˌæl nˌɑːt wˈɔndɚ mˈɔːɹ fˈɑːɹ ˈɔf fɹʌmðə mˈæd wˈɜːldz wˈeɪz.