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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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