§@%===:,,,                                          ,,,:===%@§
§@/==::,,,                                          ,,,::==/@§
#§@//:,,,,                                          ,,,,://@§#
§§§§@%/=:,                                          ,:=/%@§§§§
@#@@///=:,                                          ,:=///@@#@
#@#§@%/=:, 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.   ,:=/%§#@##
#@#§@%/=:,                                          ,:=/%@§#@#
###§@%/=:,                                          ,:=/%@§###
§%%=,,,,,,                                          ,,,,,,=%%§
#@#§@%/=:,                                          ,:=/%@§#@#
@##§@%/=:,                                          ,:=/%@§##@