##¨¨##¨###                                          #¨¨###¨###
¨#¨#¨##¨¨¨                                          #¨#¨¨##¨¨¨
#####¨#¨¨#                                          ###¨#¨#¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨###¨#¨                                          ¨¨#####¨¨#
¨¨¨#¨¨####                                          ¨#¨¨¨¨#¨##
¨¨##¨#¨¨¨# 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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#¨#¨#¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨##¨¨¨#¨#¨