,,,,««:%%@ @%%:««,,,,
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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. ##@@%%:«,,
,,,,,,::%@ @%::,,,,,,
,,«:%%@@## ##@@%%:«,,
,,«:%%@@## ##@@%%:«,,
,,,«::::%@ @%::::«,,,
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