On the Subject of Feature Cryptography

/ju/ /θɔt/ /fəʊnɛtɪk/ /spɛlɪŋ/ /wɒz/ /səpəʊzd/ /tu/ /bi/ /izɪə/ /tu/ /rid/? /ju/ /θɔt/ /rɒŋ/.

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Each glyph consists of three features that combine to form a complete description of the sound the glyph represents.
Consonants:
  • The top half of the glyph denotes the place of articulation.
  • The bottom half of the glyph denotes the manner of articalution.
  • The curved arcs at the centre of the glyph denote the voicing;
    voiced if present, voiceless if absent.
PlaceLabialDentalAlveolarPost-alveolarPalatalVelarGlottal
Voiced
MannerNasalmnŋ
Plosivepbtdʧʤkg
Fricativefvθðszʃʒh
Approximantlrjw

Vowels:

  • The top half of the glyph denotes the backness.
  • The bottom half of the glyph denotes the height.
  • The curved arcs at the centre of the glyph denote the length;
    long if present, short if absent.
BacknessFrontCentralBack
LengthShortLongShortLongShortLong
HeightCloseɪiʊuɔ
Midɛəɜɒ
Openaʌɑ

Vowels and consonants have no features in common. Note that the mapping from glyph halves to place, manner, backness, length, etc. is random for each module instance.

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Note: Phonetic spelling is given for British English pronunciation.
OriginalPhonetic
When everyone you have ever loved is finally gone
When everything you have ever wanted is finally done with
When all of your nightmares are for a time obscured
As by a shining brainless beacon
Or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world
When you are calm and joyful
And finally entirely alone
Then in a great new darkness
You will finally execute your special plan
One needs to have a plan someone said who was turned away into the shadows
And who I had believed was sleeping or dead
Imagine he said all the flesh that is eaten
The teeth tearing into it
The tongue tasting its savour
And the hunger for that taste
Now take away that flesh he said
Take away the teeth and the tongue
The taste and the hunger
Take away everything as it is
That was my plan
My own special plan for this world
I listened to these words and yet I did not wonder
If this creature whom I had thought sleeping or dead would ever approach his vision
Even in his deepest dreams
Or his most lasting death
Because I had heard of such plans such visions
And I knew they did not see far enough
But what was demanded in a way of a plan
Needed to go beyond tongue and teeth and hunger and flesh
Beyond the bones and the very dust of bones and the wind that would come to blow the dust away
wɛn ɛvrɪwʌn ju hav ɛvə lʌvd ɪz faɪnəli gɒn
wɛn ɛvrɪθɪŋ ju hav ɛvə wɒntɪd ɪz faɪnəli dʌn wɪð
wɛn ɔl ɒv jɔ naɪtmɜz ɑ fɔr ə taɪm əbskjʊəd
az baɪ ə ʃaɪnɪŋ brɛɪnləs bikən
ɔr ə blaɪndɪŋ ɪklɪps ɒv ðə mɛni tɛrəbl ʃɛɪps ɒv ðɪs wɜld
wɛn ju ɑ kɑm and ʤɔɪfʊl
and faɪnəli ɪntaɪəli ələʊn
ðɛn ɪn ə grɛɪt nju dɑknəs
ju wɪl faɪnəli ɛksɪkjut jɔ spɛʃəl plan
wʌn nidz tu hav ə plan sʌmwʌn sɛd hu wɒz tɜnd əwɛɪ ɪntu ðə ʃadəʊz
and hu aɪ had bɪlivd wɒz slipɪŋ ɔ dɛd
ɪmaʤɪn hi sɛd ɔl ðə flɛʃ ðat ɪz itn
ðə tiθ tɜrɪŋ ɪntu ɪt
ðə tʌŋ tɛəstɪŋ ɪts sɛɪvə
and ðə hʌŋgə fɔ ðat tɛəst
naʊ tɛɪk əwɛɪ ðat flɛʃ hi sɛd
tɛɪk əwɛɪ ðə tiθ and ðə tʌŋ
ðə tɛəst and ðə hʌŋgə
tɛɪk əwɛɪ ɛvrɪθɪŋ az ɪt ɪz
ðat wɒz maɪ plan
maɪ əʊn spɛʃəl plan fɔ ðɪs wɜld
aɪ lɪsnd tu ðiz wɜdz and jɛt aɪ dɪd nɒt wʌndə
ɪf ðɪs kriʧə hum aɪ had θɔt slipɪŋ ɔ dɛd wʊd ɛvər əprəʊʧ hɪz vɪʒən
ivən ɪn hɪz dipəst drimz
ɔ hɪz məʊst lɑstɪŋ dɛθ
bɪkɒz aɪ had hɜd ɒv sʌʧ planz sʌʧ vɪʒənz
and aɪ nju ðɛɪ dɪd nɒt si fɑr ɪnʌf
bʌt wɒt wɒz dɪmɑndɪd ɪn ə wɛɪ ɒv ə plan
nidɪd tu gəʊ bɪjɒnd tʌŋ and tiθ and hʌŋgər and flɛʃ
bɪjɒnd ðə bəʊnz and ðə vɛri dʌst ɒv bəʊnz and ðə wɪnd ðat wʊd kʌm tu bləʊ ðə dʌst əwɛɪ
Original Phonetic
And soI began to envision a darkness that was long before the dark of night
And a strangely shining light
That owed nothing to the light of day
That day may seem like other days
Once more we feel the tiny legged trepidations
Once more we are mangled by a great grinding fear
But that day will have no others after
No more worlds like this will follow
Because I have a plan
A very special plan
No more worlds like this
No more days like that
There are but four ways to die a sardonic spirit might have said to me
There is dying that occurs relatively suddenly
There is dying that occurs relatively gradually
There is dying that occurs relatively painlessly
There is the death that is full of pain
Thus by various means they are combined
The sudden and the gradual
The painless and the painful
To yield but four ways to die
And there are no others
Even after the voice stopped speaking
I listened for it to speak again
After hours and days and years have passed
I listened for some further words
Yet all I heard were the faintest echoes reminding me
There are no others
There are no others
Was it then that I began to conceive for this world A special plan?
and səʊ aɪ bɪgan tu ɪnvɪʒən ə dɑknəs ðat wɒz lɒŋ bɪfɔ ðə dɑk ɒv naɪt
and ə strɛɪnʤli ʃaɪnɪŋ laɪt
ðat əʊd nʌθɪŋ tu ðə laɪt ɒv dɛɪ
ðat dɛɪ mɛɪ sim laɪk ʌðə dɛɪz
wʌns mɔ wi fil ðə taɪni lɛgd trɛpɪdɛɪʃənz
wʌns mɔ wi ɑ maŋgld baɪ ə grɛɪt graɪndɪŋ fɪə
bʌt ðat dɛɪ wɪl hav nəʊ ʌðəz ɑftə
nəʊ mɔ wɜldz laɪk ðɪs wɪl fɒləʊ
bɪkɒz aɪ hav ə plan
ə vɛri spɛʃəl plan
nəʊ mɔ wɜldz laɪk ðɪs
nəʊ mɔ dɛɪz laɪk ðat
ðɜr ɑ bʌt fɔ wɛɪz tu daɪ ə sɑdɒnɪk spɪrɪt maɪt hav sɛd tu mi
ðɜr ɪz daɪɪŋ ðat əkɜz rɛlətɪvli sʌdnli
ðɜr ɪz daɪɪŋ ðat əkɜz rɛlətɪvli graʤuəli
ðɜr ɪz daɪɪŋ ðat əkɜz rɛlətɪvli pɛɪnləsli
ðɜr ɪz ðə dɛθ ðat ɪz fʊl ɒv pɛɪn
ðʌs baɪ vɜrɪəs minz ðɛɪ ɑ kəmbaɪnd
ðə sʌdn and ðə graʤuəl
ðə pɛɪnləs and ðə pɛɪnfʊl
tu jild bʌt fɔ wɛɪz tu daɪ
and ðɜr ɑ nəʊ ʌðəz
ivən ɑftə ðə vɔɪs stɒpt spikɪŋ
aɪ lɪsnd fɔr ɪt tu spik əgɛn
ɑftər aʊəz and dɛɪz and jɪəz hav pɑst
aɪ lɪsnd fɔ sʌm fɜðə wɜdz
jɛt ɔl aɪ hɜd wɜ ðə fɛɪntəst ɛkəʊz rɪmaɪndɪŋ mi
ðɜr ɑ nəʊ ʌðəz
ðɜr ɑ nəʊ ʌðəz
wɒz ɪt ðɛn ðat aɪ bɪgan tu kɒnsiv fɔ ðɪs wɜld ə spɛʃəl plan
Original Phonetic
There are no means for escaping this world
It penetrates even into your sleep
And is its substance
You are caught in your own dreaming
Where there is no space
And a hell forever where there is no time
You can't do nothing you aren't told to do
There is no hope for escape from this dream
That was never yours
The very words you speak are only its very words
And you talk like a traitor
Under its incessant torture
There are many who have designs upon this world
And dream of wild and vast reformations
I have heard them talking in their sleep
Of elegant mutations
And cunning annihilations
I have heard them whispering in the corners of crooked houses
And in the alleys and narrow back streets of this crooked creaking universe
Which they with their new designs were made straight and sound
But each of these new and ill conceived designs
Is deranged in its heart
For they see this world as if it were alone and original
And not as only one of countless others
Whose nightmares all precede
Like a hideous garden grown from a single seed
I have heard these dreamers talking in their sleep
And I stand waiting for them
As at the top of a darkened flight of stairs
They know nothing of me
And none of the secrets of my special plan
While I know every crooked creaking step of theirs
ðɜr ɑ nəʊ minz fɔr ɪskɛɪpɪŋ ðɪs wɜld
ɪt pɛnɪtrɛɪts ivən ɪntu jɔ slip
and ɪz ɪtz sʌbstəns
ju ɑ kɔt ɪn jɔr əʊn drimɪŋ
wɜ ðɜr ɪz nəʊ spɛɪs
and ə hɛl fərɛvə wɜ ðɜr ɪz nəʊ taɪm
ju kɑnt du nʌθɪŋ ju ɑnt təʊld tu du
ðɜr ɪz nəʊ həʊp fɔr ɪskɛɪp frɒm ðɪs drim
ðat wɒz nɛvə jɔz
ðə vɛri wɜdz ju spik ɑr əʊnli ɪts vɛri wɜdz
and ju tɔk laɪk ə trɛɪtə
ʌndər ɪts ɪnsɛsnt tɔʧə
ðɜr ɑ mɛni hu hav dɪzaɪnz əpɒn ðɪs wɜld
and drim ɒv waɪld and vɑst rɛfəmɛɪʃənz
aɪ hav hɜd ðɛm tɔkɪŋ ɪn ðɜ slip
ɒv ɛlɪgənt mjutɛɪʃənz
and kʌnɪŋ ənaɪəlɛɪʃənz
aɪ hav hɜd ðɛm wɪspərɪŋ ɪn ðə kɔnəz ɒv krʊkɪd haʊzɪz
and ɪn ði aliz and narəʊ bak strits ɒv ðɪs krʊkɪd krikɪŋ junɪvɜs
wɪʧ ðɛɪ wɪð ðɜ nju dɪzaɪnz wɜ mɛɪd strɛɪt and saʊnd
bʌt iʧ ɒv ðiz nju and ɪl kɒnsivd dɪzaɪnz
ɪz dɪrɛɪnʤd ɪn ɪts hɑt
fɔ ðɛɪ si ðɪs wɜld az ɪf ɪt wɜr ələʊn and ərɪʤənl
and nɒt az əʊnli wʌn ɒv kaʊntləs ʌðəz
huz naɪtmɜz ɔl prisid
laɪk ə hɪdɪəs gɑdn grəʊn frɒm ə sɪŋgl sid
aɪ hav hɜd ðiz driməz tɔkɪŋ ɪn ðɜ slip
and aɪ stand wɛɪtɪŋ fɔ ðɛm
az at ðə tɒp ɒv ə dɑkənd flaɪt ɒv stɜz
ðɛɪ nəʊ nʌθɪŋ ɒv mi
and nʌn ɒv ðə sikrɪts ɒv maɪ spɛʃəl plan
waɪl aɪ nəʊ ɛvri krʊkɪd krikɪŋ stɛp ɒv ðɜz
Original Phonetic
It was the voice of someone who was waiting in the shadows
Who was looking at the moon and waiting for me to turn the corner
And enter a narrow street
And stand with him in the dull glaze of moonlight
Then he said to me
He whispered
That my plan was misconceived
That my special plan for this world was a terrible mistake
Because, he said, there is nothing to do and there is nowhere to go
There is nothing to be and there is no one to know
Your plan is a mistake, he repeated
This world is a mistake, I replied
The children always followed him
When they saw him hopping by
A funny walk
A funny man
A funny, funny, funny man
He made them laugh sometimes
He made them laugh oh yes he did
He did he did he did he did
Oh how he made them roll
One day he took them to a place
He knew a special place
And told them things about this world
This funny, funny, funny world
Which made them laugh sometimes
He made them laugh oh yes he did
He did he did he did he did
Oh how he made them roll
Then the funny man who made them laugh
Sometimes he did
Revealed to them his special plan
His very special funny plan
Knowing they would understand
And maybe laugh sometimes
He made them laugh
Oh yes he did
He did he did he did he did
Their eyes grew wide beneath their lids
And how he made them roll
ɪt wɒz ðə vɔɪs ɒv sʌmwʌn hu wɒz wɛɪtɪŋ ɪn ðə ʃadəʊz
hu wɒz lʊkɪŋ at ðə mun and wɛɪtɪŋ fɔ mi tu tɜn ðə kɔnə
and ɛntər ə narəʊ strit
and stand wɪð hɪm ɪn ðə dʌl glɛɪz ɒv munlaɪt
ðɛn hi sɛd tu mi
hi wɪspəd
at maɪ plan wɒz mɪskənsivd
ðat maɪ spɛʃəl plan fɔ ðɪs wɜld wɒz ə tɛrəbl məstɛɪk
bɪkɒz hi sɛd ðɜr ɪz nʌθɪŋ tu du and ðɜr ɪz nəʊwɜ tu gəʊ
ðɜr ɪz nʌθɪŋ tu bi and ðɜr ɪz nəʊ wʌn tu nəʊ
jɔ plan ɪz ə məstɛɪk hi rɪpitɪd
ðɪs wɜld ɪz ə məstɛɪk aɪ rɪplaɪd
ðə ʧɪldrən ɔlwɛɪz fɒləʊd hɪm
wɛn ðɛɪ sɔ hɪm hɒpɪŋ baɪ
ə fʌni wɔk
ə fʌni man
ə fʌni fʌni fʌni man
hi mɛɪd ðɛm lɑf sʌmtaɪmz
hi mɛɪd ðɛm lɑf əʊ jɛs hi dɪd
hi dɪd hi dɪd hi dɪd hi dɪd
əʊ haʊ hi mɛɪd ðɛm rəʊl
wʌn dɛɪ hi tʊk ðɛm tu ə plɛɪs
hi nju ə spɛʃəl plɛɪs
and təʊld ðɛm θɪŋz əbaʊt ðɪs wɜld
ðɪs fʌni fʌni fʌni wɜld
wɪʧ mɛɪd ðɛm lɑf sʌmtaɪmz
hi mɛɪd ðɛm lɑf əʊ jɛs hi dɪd
hi dɪd hi dɪd hi dɪd hi dɪd
əʊ haʊ hi mɛɪd ðɛm rəʊl
ðɛn ðə fʌni man hu mɛɪd ðɛm lɑf
sʌmtaɪmz hi dɪd
rɪvild tu ðɛm hɪz spɛʃəl plan
hɪz vɛri spɛʃəl fʌni plan
nəʊɪŋ ðɛɪ wʊd ʌndəstand
and mɛɪbi lɑf sʌmtaɪmz
hi mɛɪd ðɛm lɑf əʊ jɛs hi dɪd
hi dɪd hi dɪd hi dɪd hi dɪd
ðɜr aɪz gru waɪd bɪniθ ðɜ lɪdz
and haʊ hi mɛɪd ðɛm rəʊl
Original Phonetic
I first learned the facts from a lunatic
In a dark and quiet room that smelled of stale time and space
There are no people
Nothing at all like that
The human phenomenon is but the sum of densely coiled layers of illusion
Each of which winds itself upon the supreme insanity
But there are persons of any kind
When all that can be is mindless mirrors
Laughing and screaming as they parade about
In an endless dream
But when I asked the lunatic what it was
It saw itself within these mirrors
As they marched endlessly in stale time and space
He only looked and smiled
Then he laughed and screamed
And in his black and empty eyes
I saw for a moment as in a mirror
A form the shade of divinity
In flight from its stale infinity
Of time and space and the worst
Of all of this world dreams
My special plan for the laughter
And the screams
We went to see some little show
That was staged in an old shed
Past the edge of town
And in its beginnings all seemed well
The miniature curtain stage glowed in the darkness
While those dolls bounced along on their strings before our eyes
And in its beginnings all seemed well
But then there came a subtle turning point which some had noticed
And I was one
Who quietly left the show
No I did not
Because I could see where things were going
aɪ fɜst lɜnt ðə fakts frɒm ə lunətɪk
ɪn ə dɑk and kwaɪət rum ðat smɛld ɒv stɛɪl taɪm and spɛɪs
ðɜr ɑ nəʊ pipl
nʌθɪŋ at ɔl laɪk ðat
ðə hjumən fɪnɒmɪnən ɪz bʌt ðə sʌm ɒv dɛnsli kɔɪld lɛɪəz ɒv ɪluʒən
iʧ ɒv wɪʧ waɪndz ɪtsɛlf əpɒn ðə sʌprim ɪnsanɪti
bʌt ðɜr ɑ pɜsnz ɒv ɛni kaɪnd
wɛn ɔl ðat kan bi ɪz maɪndləs mɪrəz
lɑfɪŋ and skrimɪŋ az ðɛɪ pərɛɪd əbaʊt
ɪn ən ɛndləs drim
bʌt wɛn aɪ ɑskt ðə lunətɪk wɒt ɪt wɒz
ɪt sɔ ɪtsɛlf wɪðɪn ðiz mɪrəz
az ðɛɪ mɑʧt ɛndləsli ɪn stɛɪl taɪm and spɛɪs
hi əʊnli lʊkt and smaɪld
ðɛn hi lɑft and skrimd
and ɪn hɪz blak and ɛmpti aɪz
aɪ sɔ fɔr ə məʊmənt az ɪn ə mɪrə
ə fɔm ðə ʃɛɪd ɒv dɪvɪnɪti
ɪn flaɪt frɒm ɪts stɛɪl ɪnfɪnɪti
ɒv taɪm and spɛɪs and ðə wɜst
ɒv ɔl ɒv ðɪs wɜld drimz
maɪ spɛʃəl plan fɔ ðə lɑftə
and ðə skrimz
wi wɛnt tu si sʌm lɪtl ʃəʊ
ðat wɒz stɛɪʤd ɪn ən əʊld ʃɛd
pɑst ði ɛʤ ɒv taʊn
and ɪn ɪts bɪgɪnɪŋz ɔl simd wɛl
ðə mɪnəʧə kɜtn stɛɪʤ gləʊd ɪn ðə dɑknəs
waɪl ðəʊz dɒlz baʊnst əlɒŋ ɒn ðɜ strɪŋz bɪfɔr aʊər aɪz
and ɪn ɪts bɪgɪnɪŋz ɔl simd wɛl
bʌt ðɛn ðɜ kɛɪm ə sʌtl tɜnɪŋ pɔɪnt wɪʧ sʌm had nəʊtɪst
and aɪ wɒz wʌn
hu kwaɪətli lɛft ðə ʃəʊ
nəʊ aɪ dɪd nɒt
bɪkɒz aɪ kʊd si wɜ θɪŋz wɜ gəʊɪŋ
Original Phonetic
As the antics of those dolls grew strange
And the fragile strings grew taut
With their tiny pullings, tiny limbs
The others around me became appalled
And turned away and abandoned the show
That was staged in an old shed
Past the edge of town
But I wanted to witness what could never be
I wanted to see what could not be seen
But the moment of consummate disaster
When puppets turn to face the puppet master
It was twilight and I stood in a greyish haze of the vast empty building
When the silence was enriched by a reverberant voice
All the things of this world it said
Are of but one essence
For which there are no words
This is the greater part which has no beginning or end
And the one essence of this world for which there can be no words
Is but all the things of this world
This is the lesser part which had a beginning and shall have an end
And for which words were conceived solely to speak of
The tiny broken beings of this world it said
The beginnings and endings of this world it said
For which words were conceived solely to speak of
Now remove these words and what remains it asks me
As I stood in the twilight of that vast empty building
But I did not answer
az ði antɪks ɒv ðəʊz dɒlz gru strɛɪnʤ
and ðə fraʤaɪl strɪŋz gru tɔt
wɪð ðɜ taɪni pʊlɪŋz taɪni lɪmz
ði ʌðəz əraʊnd mi bɪkɛɪm əpɔld
and tɜnd əwɛɪ and əbandənd ðə ʃəʊ
ðat wɒz stɛɪʤd ɪn ən əʊld ʃɛd
pɑst ði ɛʤ ɒv taʊn
bʌt aɪ wɒntɪd tu wɪtnəs wɒt kʊd nɛvə bi
aɪ wɒntɪd tu si wɒt kʊd nɒt bi sin
bʌt ðə məʊmənt ɒv kɒnsʌmət dɪzɑstə
wɛn pʌpɪts tɜn tu fɛɪs ðə pʌpɪt mɑstə
ɪt wɒz twaɪlaɪt and aɪ stʊd ɪn ə grɛɪɪʃ hɛɪz ɒv ðə vɑst ɛmpti bɪldɪŋ
wɛn ðə saɪləns wɒz ɪnrɪʧt baɪ ə rɪvɜbərənt vɔɪs
ɔl ðə θɪŋz ɒv ðɪs wɜld ɪt sɛd
ɑr ɒv bʌt wʌn ɛsns
fɔ wɪʧ ðɜr ɑ nəʊ wɜdz
ðɪs ɪz ðə grɛɪtə pɑt wɪʧ haz nəʊ bɪgɪnɪŋ ɔr ɛnd
and ðə wʌn ɛsns ɒv ðɪs wɜld fɔ wɪʧ ðɜ kan bi nəʊ wɜdz
ɪz bʌt ɔl ðə θɪŋz ɒv ðɪs wɜld
ðɪs ɪz ðə lɛsə pɑt wɪʧ had ə bɪgɪnɪŋ and ʃal hav ən ɛnd
and fɔ wɪʧ wɜdz wɜ kɒnsivd səʊlli tu spik ɒv
ðə taɪni brəʊkən biɪŋz ɒv ðɪs wɜld ɪt sɛd
ðə bɪgɪnɪŋz and ɛndɪŋz ɒv ðɪs wɜld ɪt sɛd
fɔ wɪʧ wɜdz wɜ kɒnsivd səʊlli tu spik ɒv
naʊ rɪmuv ðiz wɜdz and wɒt rɪmɛɪnz ɪt ɑsks mi
az aɪ stʊd ɪn ðə twaɪlaɪt ɒv ðat vɑst ɛmpti bɪldɪŋ
bʌt aɪ dɪd nɒt ɑnsə
Original Phonetic
The question echoed over and over
But I remained silent until the echoes died
And as twilight passed into the evening
I felt my special plan for which there are no words
Moving towards a greater darkness
There are some who have no voices
Or none that will ever speak
Because of the things they know about this world
And the things they feel about this world
Because the thoughts that fill a brain
That is a damaged brain
Because the pain that fills a body That is a damaged body
Exists in other worlds
Countless other worlds
Each of which stands alone in an infinite empty blackness
For which no words are being conceived
And where no voices are able to speak
When a brain is filled only with damaged thoughts
When a damaged body is filled only with pain
And stands alone in a world surrounded by infinite empty blackness
And exists in a world for which there is no special plan
When everyone you have ever loved is finally gone
When everything you have ever wanted is finally done with
When all of your nightmares are for a time obscured
As by a shining brainless beacon
Or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world
When you are calm and joyful
And finally entirely alone
Then in a great new darkness
You will finally execute your special plan
ðə kwɛsʧən ɛkəʊd əʊvə and əʊvə
bʌt aɪ rɪmɛɪnd saɪlənt əntɪl ðə ɛkəʊz daɪd
and az twaɪlaɪt pɑst ɪntu ði ivnɪŋ
aɪ fɛlt maɪ spɛʃəl plan fɔ wɪʧ ðɜr ɑ nəʊ wɜdz
muvɪŋ təwɔdz ə grɛɪtə dɑknəs
ðɜr ɑ sʌm hu hav nəʊ vɔɪsɪz
ɔ nʌn ðat wɪl ɛvə spik
bɪkɒz ɒv ðə θɪŋz ðɛɪ nəʊ əbaʊt ðɪs wɜld
and ðə θɪŋz ðɛɪ fil əbaʊt ðɪs wɜld
bɪkɒz ðə θɔts ðat fɪl ə brɛɪn
ðat ɪz ə damɪʤd brɛɪn
bɪkɒz ðə pɛɪn ðat fɪlz ə bɒdi
ðat ɪz ə damɪʤd bɒdi
ɪgzəsts ɪn ʌðə wɜldz
kaʊntləs ʌðə wɜldz
iʧ ɒv wɪʧ standz ələʊn ɪn ən ɪnfɪnɪt ɛmpti blaknəs
fɔ wɪʧ nəʊ wɜdz ɑ biɪŋ kɒnsivd
and wɜ nəʊ vɔɪsɪz ɑr ɛɪbl tu spik
wɛn ə brɛɪn ɪz fɪld əʊnli wɪð damɪʤd θɔts
wɛn ə damɪʤd bɒdi ɪz fɪld əʊnli wɪð pɛɪn
and standz ələʊn ɪn ə wɜld səraʊndɪd baɪ ɪnfɪnɪt ɛmpti blaknəs
and ɪgzəsts ɪn ə wɜld fɔ wɪʧ ðɜr ɪz nəʊ spɛʃəl plan
wɛn ɛvrɪwʌn ju hav ɛvə lʌvd ɪz faɪnəli gɒn
wɛn ɛvrɪθɪŋ ju hav ɛvə wɒntɪd ɪz faɪnəli dʌn wɪð
wɛn ɔl ɒv jɔ naɪtmɜz ɑ fɔr ə taɪm əbskjʊəd
az baɪ ə ʃaɪnɪŋ brɛɪnləs bikən
ɔr ə blaɪndɪŋ ɪklɪps ɒv ðə mɛni tɛrəbl ʃɛɪps ɒv ðɪs wɜld
wɛn ju ɑ kɑm and ʤɔɪfʊl
and faɪnəli ɪntaɪəli ələʊn
ðɛn ɪn ə grɛɪt nju dɑknəs
ju wɪl faɪnəli ɛksɪkjut jɔ spɛʃəl plan