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¨¨¨¤¤¤¨¨¤¨ 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. ¨¤¨¨¨¨¨¤¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¤¤¤¨ ¨¨¤¨¨¨¨¨¤¨
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