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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. ¨¨¨¨¨¤¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¤¨¨¨¨ ¤¨¨¨¨¨¤¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¤¨¨¨ 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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