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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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