«:¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨:«
/«:¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨:«/
§/«:¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨:«/§
@§/«:¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨:«/§@
¶@§/«:¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨:«/§@¶
#¶@§/«:¨¨¨ 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.   ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨:«
/«:¨¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨:«/
§/«:¨¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨:«/§
@§/«:¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨:«/§@
¶@§/«:¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨:«/§@¶
#¶@§/«:¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨:«/§@¶#