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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. ##§¤=\~-..
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..-~\=¤§## 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. ##§¤=\~-..
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..-~\=¤§## 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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