¨@¨@¨@@¨¨@ @@@¨@@¨¨¨@
¨@¨@¨¨@¨@¨ @@@¨¨@¨¨@@
¨@¨@¨@@¨@¨ @@@¨@@¨@¨@
¨@¨@¨¨@¨@¨ @@@¨¨@¨@¨@
¨@¨@¨@@¨@¨ ¨@@¨@@¨@¨@
¨@¨@¨¨@¨@¨ 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. ¨@@¨@@¨@¨@
¨@¨@¨¨@¨@¨ ¨¨@¨¨@¨@¨@
¨@¨@¨@@¨@¨ ¨@@¨@@¨@¨@
¨@¨@¨¨@¨@¨ ¨¨@¨¨@¨@¨@
¨@¨@¨@@¨@¨ ¨@@¨@@¨@¨@
¨@¨@¨¨@¨@¨ ¨¨@¨¨@¨@¨@