text_original: He steers and steers on the slant of the gale, Like the fiend or Vanderdecken ; And there ? s never an unknown course to sail But his crazy log can reckon. He drones along with his rough sea song And the throat of a salty tar, This devil may care, till he makes his lair By the light of a yellow star.
text_transcription: HE STEERS AND STEERS ON THE SLANT OF THE GALE LIKE THE FIEND OR VONDERDECKEN AND THERE'S NEVER AN UNKNOWN COURSE TO SAIL BUT HIS CRAZY LOG CAN RECKON HE DRONES ALONG WITH HIS ROUGH SEA SONG AND THE THROAT OF A SALTY TAR THIS DEVIL MAY CARE TILL HE MAKES HIS LAIR BY THE LIGHT OF A YELLOW STAR
phonemes: hiː stˈɪɹz ænd stˈɪɹz ɔnðə slˈænt ʌvðə ɡˈeɪl, lˈaɪk ðə fˈiːnd ɔːɹ vˈændɚdˌɛkən ; ænd ðˈɛɹ ? ˈɛs nˈɛvɚɹ ɐn ʌnnˈoʊn kˈɔːɹs tə sˈeɪl bˌʌt hɪz kɹˈeɪzi lˈɔɡ kæn ɹˈɛkən. hiː dɹˈoʊnz ɐlˈɔŋ wɪð hɪz ɹˈʌf sˈiː sˈɔŋ ænd ðə θɹˈoʊt əvə sˈɔlti tˈɑːɹ, ðɪs dˈɛvəl mˈeɪ kˈɛɹ, tˈɪl hiː mˌeɪks hɪz lˈɛɹ baɪ ðə lˈaɪt əvə jˈɛloʊ stˈɑːɹ.