£¨£££££¨¨¨                                          £¨¨£¨£¨£££
££¨¨¨¨£¨¨¨                                          £¨£££££¨¨¨
¨£¨¨¨££¨¨¨                                          ££¨¨¨¨£¨¨£
££¨¨£¨£¨¨£                                          ¨£¨¨¨££¨££
¨£¨££££¨££                                          ££¨¨£¨££¨¨
£££¨¨¨££¨¨ I  Follow  The Tire Tracks West. They Go ¨£¨£££¨£¨¨
¨¨£¨¨£¨£¨£ Parallel  With The  Railroad,  With  Its £££¨¨£££¨£
¨££¨££££££ Endless  Mirrors Looking Kinda  Oily. An ¨¨£¨£¨¨£££
£¨££¨¨¨¨¨¨  Incredible Power Bound There... There'S ¨££££¨£¨¨£
££¨£¨¨¨¨¨£ A Wire  Fence To Separate The Two Roads. £¨¨¨£££¨£¨
¨£££¨¨¨¨££                                          £¨¨£¨¨££££
£¨¨£¨¨¨£¨£ Even  Though There'S A  Foggy Quality To £¨££¨£¨¨¨£
£¨££¨¨£££¨ The Air,  The Path I  Follow Is Glowing. ££¨£££¨¨£¨
££¨£¨£¨¨££ A  Yellow-Green  Moss   Has  Taken  Hold ¨££¨¨£¨£££
¨£££££¨£¨¨ Where  The   Machines  Who  Made   These £¨£¨£££¨¨¨
£¨¨¨¨£££¨£ Tracks  Once Disturbed The Clover Field. ££££¨¨£¨¨¨
£¨¨¨£¨¨££¨                                          ¨¨¨£¨££¨¨£
£¨¨££¨£¨£¨ We'Re Off  The  Season  When  The  Birds ¨¨£££¨£¨£¨
£¨£¨£££££¨ Sing  Beautifully. These  Days It'S Just ¨£¨¨££££££
££££¨¨¨¨££      Screeches, Or Calls For Help.       ££¨£¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨£¨¨¨£¨¨                                          ¨£££¨¨¨¨¨£
¨¨££¨¨££¨¨ I  Think   Of  The   Jackdaw   I  Maimed £¨¨£¨¨¨¨££
¨£¨£¨£¨£¨¨   Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate.   £¨££¨¨¨£¨£
££££££££¨¨                                          ££¨£¨¨££££
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨£¨¨                                          ¨£££¨£¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨££¨¨                                          £¨¨£££¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨£¨£¨¨                                          £¨£¨¨£¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨££££¨¨                                          £££¨££¨¨¨¨