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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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