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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. @%%%;;.¨¨¨
¨.»;=%&@## ##@&%=;».¨
¨.»;=%%&&# 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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