text_original: Yield myself to the old time charm Of a dream of vanished bliss, The thrill of a voice, and the fold of an arm, And a red lip's lingering kiss. It all comes back like a flowing tide; That brief, but beautiful day.
text_transcription: YIELD MYSELF TO THE OLD TIME CHARM OF A DREAM OF VANISHED BLISS THE THRILL OF A VOICE AND THE FOLD OF AN ARM AND THE RED LIPS LINGERING KISS IT ALL COMES BACK LIKE A FLOWING TIDE THAT BRIEF BUT BEAUTIFUL DAY
phonemes: jˈiːld maɪsˈɛlf tə ðɪ ˈoʊld tˈaɪm tʃˈɑːɹm əvə dɹˈiːm ʌv vˈænɪʃt blˈɪs, ðə θɹˈɪl əvə vˈɔɪs, ænd ðə fˈoʊld əvən ˈɑːɹm, ænd ɐ ɹˈɛd lˈɪps lˈɪŋɡɚɹɪŋ kˈɪs. ɪɾ ˈɔːl kˈʌmz bˈæk lˈaɪk ɐ flˈoʊɪŋ tˈaɪd; ðæt bɹˈiːf, bˌʌt bjˈuːɾifəl dˈeɪ.