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