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