.@@@.@@..@ .@..@@@.@@
@..@@.@.@. @@.@..@@.@
@.@.@@@@@@ .@@@.@.@@.
@@@@.....@ @..@@@@.@@
...@....@. @.@...@@..
..@@...@@@ 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. @.@@.@..@.
@@@@@@.@@. @@.@@@.@@@
.....@@.@@ .@@..@@...
....@.@@.. @.@.@.@...
...@@@.@.. @@@@@@@...
..@..@@@.@ ......@...