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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. ##¶@%†~.,,
,,,.~†%@¶#                                          #¶@%†~.,,,
,,,,.~†%@¶ 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.   †~.,,,,,,,
,,,,,,.~†%                                          %†~.,,,,,,
,,,,,.~†%@                                          @%†~.,,,,,
,,,,.~†%@¶                                          ¶@%†~.,,,,
,,,.~†%@¶#                                          #¶@%†~.,,,
,,.~†%@¶##                                          ##¶@%†~.,,