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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 ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨.=*
$*=.¨¨¨¨¨¨ Sing Beautifully. These Days It'S Just ¨¨¨¨¨¨.=*$
¤$*=.¨¨¨¨¨ Screeches, Or Calls For Help. ¨¨¨¨¨.=*$¤
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@¤¤$*=.¨¨¨ I Think Of The Jackdaw I Maimed ¨¨¨.=*$¤¤@
#@¤¤$*=.¨¨ Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate. ¨¨.=*$¤¤@#
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