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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. .¤¤.¤.¤.¤.
¤¤.¤.¤.¤¤. ..¤.¤.¤.¤.
.¤.¤.¤..¤. 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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