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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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