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