,,=\^¤@¶@# #@¶@¤^\=,,
,,,,,\¤¤¤¶ ¶¤¤¤\,,,,,
,,===^^^@¶ ¶@^^^===,,
,,=\^¤@¶@# #@¶@¤^\=,,
,,,,,,=\¤@ @¤\=,,,,,,
,,=\\\\¤¤¶ 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. @@¤\,,,,,,
,,=\^¤@¶@# #@¶@¤^\=,,
,,=\^¤¶@## ##@¶¤^\=,,
,,=\^¤@¶## ##¶@¤^\=,,
,,=\^¤@¶@# #@¶@¤^\=,,
,,,===^@@@ @@@^===,,,