##@@$%†«:¨                                          ¨:«†%$@@##
#@@$%†«:¨¨                                          ¨¨:«†%$@@#
@@$%†«:¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨:«†%$@@
@$%†«:¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨:«†%$@
$%†«:¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨:«†%$
%†«:¨¨¨¨¨¨ 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 ¨¨¨¨¨¨:«†%
$%†«:¨¨¨¨¨ Where   The   Machines  Who  Made  These ¨¨¨¨¨:«†%$
@$%†«:¨¨¨¨ Tracks Once Disturbed  The Clover Field. ¨¨¨¨:«†%$@
@@$%†«:¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨:«†%$@@
#@@$%†«:¨¨ We'Re  Off  The Season  When  The  Birds ¨¨:«†%$@@#
##@@$%†«:¨ Sing Beautifully.  These  Days It'S Just ¨:«†%$@@##
#@@$%†«:¨¨      Screeches, Or Calls For Help.       ¨¨:«†%$@@#
@@$%†«:¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨:«†%$@@
@$%†«:¨¨¨¨ I   Think  Of   The   Jackdaw  I  Maimed ¨¨¨¨:«†%$@
$%†«:¨¨¨¨¨   Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate.   ¨¨¨¨¨:«†%$
%†«:¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨:«†%
†«:¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨:«†
«:¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨:«
:¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨:
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨