#@£&†=»:,, ,,:»=†&£@#
@£&†=»:,,, ,,,:»=†&£@
£&†=»:,,,, ,,,,:»=†&£
@£&†=»:,,, ,,,:»=†&£@
#@£&†=»:,, ,,:»=†&£@#
##@£&†=»:, 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. ,,:»=†&£@#
##@£&†=»:, ,:»=†&£@##
#@£&†=»:,, ,,:»=†&£@#
@£&†=»:,,, ,,,:»=†&£@
£&†=»:,,,, ,,,,:»=†&£
@£&†=»:,,, ,,,:»=†&£@