##@#%*\».,                                          ,.»\*%#@##
#@#%*\».,,                                          ,,.»\*%#@#
@#%*\».,,,                                          ,,,.»\*%#@
#@#%*\».,,                                          ,,.»\*%#@#
##@#%*\».,                                          ,.»\*%#@##
#@#%*\».,, 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.   ,,,.»\*%#@
#@#%*\».,,                                          ,,.»\*%#@#
##@#%*\».,                                          ,.»\*%#@##
#@#%*\».,,                                          ,,.»\*%#@#
@#%*\».,,,                                          ,,,.»\*%#@
#@#%*\».,,                                          ,,.»\*%#@#