......«%$§                                          §$%«......
.^«;%$§¶@#                                          #@¶§$%;«^.
.^«;%$§¶@#                                          #@¶§$%;«^.
..^^^;;$$§                                          §$$;;^^^..
......^;$§                                          §$;^......
.^«;%$§§¶¶ I Follow The Tire Tracks  West. They  Go ¶¶§§$%;«^.
....^«%%§@ 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. ¶§%«««....
.^«;%$§¶@@                                          @@¶§$%;«^.
......«%$¶ We'Re  Off The  Season  When  The  Birds ¶$%«......
.^«;;;%$$¶ Sing  Beautifully. These Days It'S  Just ¶$$%;;;«^.
.^«;%$§¶@#      Screeches, Or Calls For Help.       #@¶§$%;«^.
....^««;%§                                          §%;««^....
...««%$§§@ I  Think   Of   The  Jackdaw  I   Maimed @§§$%««...
.^«;%$§¶##   Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate.   ##¶§$%;«^.
.^«;%$§¶@#                                          #@¶§$%;«^.
.^«;%$§@##                                          ##@§$%;«^.
.^«;%$§¶@@                                          @@¶§$%;«^.
.^«;%$¶@##                                          ##@¶$%;«^.
.^«;%$§¶@#                                          #@¶§$%;«^.