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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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