There was an old man in a tree,
ðeə wɒz ən əʊld mæn ɪn ə tri:/
Whose Whiskers were lovely to see;
hu:z ‘wɪzkəs weə ‘lʌvli tə si:/
But the birds of the air
bʌt ðə bɜ:dz əv ði eə
Pluck’d them perfectly bare,
plʌkd ðəm ‘pɜ:fɪktli beə/
To make themselves nests in that tree.
tə meɪk ðəm’selvz nests ɪn ðət tri://
There was a young lady of Corsica,
ðeə wɒz ə jʌŋ ‘leɪdi əv kɒ’zɪkə/
Who purchased a little brown saucy-cur;
hu: ‘pɜ:tʃəzd ə ‘lɪtl braʊn ‘sɔ:sicə/
Which she fed upon ham
wɪtʃ ʃi fəd ə’pɒn hæm
And hot raspberry jam,
ənd hɒt ‘rɑ:zbəri jæm/
That expensive young lady of Corsica.
ðət ɪks’pensiv jʌŋ ‘leɪdi əv kɒ’zɪkə/
There was an old person of Skye,
ðeə wɒz ən əʊld ‘pːsn əv skaɪə/
Who waltz’d with a bluebottle fly;
hu: wɔ:lsd wɪð ə blu:’bɒtl flai/
They buzz’d a sweet tune,
ðeɪ bʌzd ə swi:t tju:n/
To the light of the moon,
tə ðə laɪt əv ðə mu:n/
And entranced all the people of Skye.
ənd ‘entrənsɪd ɔ:l ðə ‘pi:pl əv s’kaɪə//
There was an old man of Dunblane,
ðeə wɒz ən əʊld mæn əv dʌn’bleɪn/
Who greatly resembled a crane;
hu: greɪtli rɪze’mblɪd ə kreɪn/
But they said -”Is it wrong,
bʌt ðeɪ sed ɪz ɪt rɒŋ/
Since your legs are so long,
sɪns jɔ: legs ɑ: səʊ lɒŋ/
To request you won’t stay in Dunblane?”
tə rɪ’kwest ju: wəʊnt steɪ ɪn dʌn’bleɪn//