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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. &¨&¨&¨&¨&¨
&¨¨&¨¨&¨¨& &¨&¨&¨&¨&¨
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