¨££¨££¨¨£¨ ¨¨¨£¨¨£££¨
£¨££¨£¨££¨ ¨¨££¨£¨¨£¨
££¨££££¨£¨ ¨£¨£££¨£££
¨££¨¨¨££££ £££¨¨££¨¨¨
£¨£¨¨£¨¨¨£ ¨¨£¨£¨£¨¨¨
£££¨££¨¨£¨ 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. ££££££££¨¨
¨£¨¨££££££ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨£¨£
££¨£¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨££££
¨£££¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨£¨¨¨¨
£¨¨£¨¨¨¨¨£ ¨¨¨¨££¨¨¨¨
£¨££¨¨¨¨££ ¨¨¨£¨£¨¨¨£