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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. ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨,
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¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ 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. ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨,»*
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§^*»,¨¨¨¨¨ We'Re Off The Season When The Birds ¨¨¨¨¨,»*^§
£§^*»,¨¨¨¨ Sing Beautifully. These Days It'S Just ¨¨¨¨,»*^§£
¶£§^*»,¨¨¨ Screeches, Or Calls For Help. ¨¨¨,»*^§£¶
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##¶£§^*»,¨ I Think Of The Jackdaw I Maimed ¨,»*^§£¶##
#¶£§^*»,¨¨ Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate. ¨¨,»*^§£¶#
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