@¶§&%/~,¨¨                                          ¨¨,~/%&§¶@
¶§&%/~,¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨,~/%&§¶
@¶§&%/~,¨¨                                          ¨¨,~/%&§¶@
#@¶§&%/~,¨                                          ¨,~/%&§¶@#
@¶§&%/~,¨¨                                          ¨¨,~/%&§¶@
¶§&%/~,¨¨¨ 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.   ¨¨,~/%&§¶@
#@¶§&%/~,¨                                          ¨,~/%&§¶@#
@¶§&%/~,¨¨                                          ¨¨,~/%&§¶@
¶§&%/~,¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨,~/%&§¶
@¶§&%/~,¨¨                                          ¨¨,~/%&§¶@
#@¶§&%/~,¨                                          ¨,~/%&§¶@#