¨¨~~=†§&@@ @@&§†=~~¨¨
¨¨¨~~=†§&@ @&§†=~~¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨~~=†§& &§†=~~¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨~~=†§ §†=~~¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨~~=† †=~~¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨~~= 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. &§†=~~¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨~~=†§ §†=~~¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨~~=† †=~~¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨~~= =~~¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨~~ ~~¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨~ ~¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨