,,,,,@,,,,                                          @,@@@,,,@,
,,,,,,@,,,                                          @,@,@@,,,@
@,,,,,,@,,                                          ,,,,@@@,,,
,@,,,,,,@,                                          ,,,,@,@@,,
,,@,,,,,,@                                          ,,,,,,@@@,
,,,@,,,,,, 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.   ,@,,,,,@,,
,,@@@,,@,,                                          ,,@,,,,,@,
,,@,@@,,@,                                          ,,,@,,,,,@
@,,,@@@,,@                                          ,,,,@,,,,,
,@,,@,@@,,                                          ,,,,,@,,,,
,,@,,,@@@,                                          ,,,,,,@,,,