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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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