@#$§^»,,,, ,,,,»^§$#@
#$§^»,,,,, ,,,,,»^§$#
$§^»,,,,,, ,,,,,,»^§$
#$§^»,,,,, ,,,,,»^§$#
@#$§^»,,,, ,,,,»^§$#@
#@#$§^»,,, I Follow The Tire Tracks West. They Go ,,,»^§$#@#
##@#$§^»,, Parallel With The Railroad, With Its ,,»^§$#@##
#@#$§^»,,, Endless Mirrors Looking Kinda Oily. An ,,,»^§$#@#
@#$§^»,,,, Incredible Power Bound There... There'S ,,,,»^§$#@
#$§^»,,,,, A Wire Fence To Separate The Two Roads. ,,,,,»^§$#
$§^»,,,,,, ,,,,,,»^§$
#$§^»,,,,, Even Though There'S A Foggy Quality To ,,,,,»^§$#
@#$§^»,,,, The Air, The Path I Follow Is Glowing. ,,,,»^§$#@
#@#$§^»,,, A Yellow-Green Moss Has Taken Hold ,,,»^§$#@#
##@#$§^»,, Where The Machines Who Made These ,,»^§$#@##
#@#$§^»,,, Tracks Once Disturbed The Clover Field. ,,,»^§$#@#
@#$§^»,,,, ,,,,»^§$#@
#$§^»,,,,, We'Re Off The Season When The Birds ,,,,,»^§$#
$§^»,,,,,, Sing Beautifully. These Days It'S Just ,,,,,,»^§$
#$§^»,,,,, Screeches, Or Calls For Help. ,,,,,»^§$#
@#$§^»,,,, ,,,,»^§$#@
#@#$§^»,,, I Think Of The Jackdaw I Maimed ,,,»^§$#@#
##@#$§^»,, Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate. ,,»^§$#@##
#@#$§^»,,, ,,,»^§$#@#
@#$§^»,,,, ,,,,»^§$#@
#$§^»,,,,, ,,,,,»^§$#
$§^»,,,,,, ,,,,,,»^§$
#$§^»,,,,, ,,,,,»^§$#