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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. ,,,,,^†=@¤
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###¤@=†~^, 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. ,^~†=@¤###
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¤===~,,,,, We'Re Off The Season When The Birds ,,,,,~===¤
###¤@=†~^, Sing Beautifully. These Days It'S Just ,^~†=@¤###
###¤@=†~^, Screeches, Or Calls For Help. ,^~†=@¤###
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###¤@=†~^, I Think Of The Jackdaw I Maimed ,^~†=@¤###
#¤@@==†~^, Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate. ,^~†==@@¤#
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