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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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.:~;$&§@@@ Even Though There'S A Foggy Quality To @@@§&$;~:.
.:~;$&§@## The Air, The Path I Follow Is Glowing. ##@§&$;~:.
.:~;$&§@## A Yellow-Green Moss Has Taken Hold ##@§&$;~:.
...:~;$$$§ Where The Machines Who Made These §$$$;~:...
.:~;$§@### Tracks Once Disturbed The Clover Field. ###@§$;~:.
.:~;$&§@@@ @@@§&$;~:.
.....:;$&@ We'Re Off The Season When The Birds @&$;:.....
.:~;$&§@## Sing Beautifully. These Days It'S Just ##@§&$;~:.
.:~;$&§@## Screeches, Or Calls For Help. ##@§&$;~:.
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.:~;$&§@## I Think Of The Jackdaw I Maimed ##@§&$;~:.
.:~;$&§@## Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate. ##@§&$;~:.
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