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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. ,,,,,,,:»/
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/»:,,,,,,, I Think Of The Jackdaw I Maimed ,,,,,,,:»/
§/»:,,,,,, Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate. ,,,,,,:»/§
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