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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. ,~-=^@@¶##
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##¶@@^=-~, 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. ,~-=^@@¶##
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@^^-~,,,,, We'Re Off The Season When The Birds ,,,,,~-^^@
#¶@@==~,,, Sing Beautifully. These Days It'S Just ,,,~==@@¶#
##¶@@^=-~, Screeches, Or Calls For Help. ,~-=^@@¶##
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##¶@@^=-~, I Think Of The Jackdaw I Maimed ,~-=^@@¶##
¶¶@^==~,,, Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate. ,,,~==^@¶¶
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