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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. ,,&&&,,,,&
&,,&,,,,&, ,,&,&&,,,,
,&,,&,,,,& 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. ,,,,,&,,&,
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