¨##¨¨#¨###                                          #¨¨¨¨¨¨#¨¨
¨###¨¨¨#¨#                                          ##¨¨¨¨¨¨#¨
¨#¨##¨¨¨¨#                                          ¨##¨¨¨¨¨¨#
¨¨¨###¨¨¨#                                          ¨###¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨#¨##¨¨¨                                          ¨#¨##¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨###¨¨ 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.   ¨¨¨¨¨¨#¨¨¨
¨¨###¨¨¨¨¨                                          ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨#¨¨
¨¨#¨##¨¨¨¨                                          #¨¨¨¨¨¨¨#¨
¨¨¨¨###¨¨¨                                          ##¨¨¨¨¨¨¨#
#¨¨¨#¨##¨¨                                          ¨##¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
¨#¨¨¨¨###¨                                          ¨###¨¨¨¨¨¨