@@^==.¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨.==^@@
@^==.¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨.==^@
^==.¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨.==^
==.¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨.==
=.¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨.=
.¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ 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. ¨¨¨¨¨¨.==^
==.¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨.==
=.¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨.=
.¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨.
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨