**\-^¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨^-\**
*\-^¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨^-\*
\-^¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨^-\
-^¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨^-
^¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨^
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ 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. ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨^
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
^¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨^
-^¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨^-
\-^¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨^-\
*\-^¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨^-\*