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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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##¤*$/~~¨¨ We'Re Off The Season When The Birds ¨¨~~/$*¤##
###¤*$/~~¨ Sing Beautifully. These Days It'S Just ¨~~/$*¤###
##¤*$/~~¨¨ Screeches, Or Calls For Help. ¨¨~~/$*¤##
#¤*$/~~¨¨¨ ¨¨¨~~/$*¤#
¤*$/~~¨¨¨¨ I Think Of The Jackdaw I Maimed ¨¨¨¨~~/$*¤
#¤*$/~~¨¨¨ Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate. ¨¨¨~~/$*¤#
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