text_original: I can see it all  how you rode down Like a knight of old, from the dusty town, With a passionate glow in your eyes of brown. Again I stand by the garden gate, While the golden sun slips low, and wait And watch your coming, my love, my fate.
text_transcription: I CAN SEE IT ALL HOW YOU RODE DOWN LIKE A KNIGHT OF OLD FROM THE DUSTY TOWN WITH A PASSIONATE GLOW IN YOUR EYES OF BROWN AGAIN I STAND BY THE GARDEN GATE WHILE THE GOLDEN SUN SLIPS LOW AND WAIT AND WATCH YOUR COMING MY LOVE MY FATE
phonemes: aɪ kæn sˈiː ɪɾ ˈɔːl hˌaʊ juː ɹˈoʊd dˌaʊn lˈaɪk ɐ nˈaɪt ʌv ˈoʊld, fɹʌmðə dˈʌsti tˈaʊn, wɪð ɐ pˈæʃənət ɡlˈoʊ ɪn jʊɹ ˈaɪz ʌv bɹˈaʊn. ɐɡˈɛn aɪ stˈænd baɪ ðə ɡˈɑːɹdən ɡˈeɪt, wˌaɪl ðə ɡˈoʊldən sˈʌn slˈɪps lˈoʊ, ænd wˈeɪt ænd wˈɑːtʃ jʊɹ kˈʌmɪŋ, maɪ lˈʌv, maɪ fˈeɪt.