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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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,:»^%¤§§§§ 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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