#@§%§:=^¨¨                                          ¨¨^=:§%§@#
@§%§:=^¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨^=:§%§@
§%§:=^¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨^=:§%§
%§:=^¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨^=:§%
§%§:=^¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨^=:§%§
@§%§:=^¨¨¨ 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.   ¨¨^=:§%§@#
##@§%§:=^¨                                          ¨^=:§%§@##
#@§%§:=^¨¨                                          ¨¨^=:§%§@#
@§%§:=^¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨^=:§%§@
§%§:=^¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨^=:§%§
%§:=^¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨^=:§%