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¨&¨&¨¨&¨&¨ &&&&&&&&¨&
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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. ¨&¨&¨&¨&¨&
¨&¨&¨¨&¨&¨ ¨&¨&¨&¨&¨&
¨&¨&¨&&¨&¨ ¨&¨&¨&¨&¨&
¨&¨&¨¨&¨&¨ ¨&¨&¨&¨&¨&
¨&¨&¨&&¨&¨ ¨&¨&¨&¨&¨&
¨&¨&¨¨&¨&¨ ¨&¨&¨&¨&¨&