¨-~\*¤@### ###@¤*\~-¨
¨¨-~\*¤@## ##@¤*\~-¨¨
¨-~\*¤@### ###@¤*\~-¨
¨¨-~\*¤@## ##@¤*\~-¨¨
¨-~\*¤@### ###@¤*\~-¨
¨¨-~\*¤@## 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. ###@¤*\~-¨
¨¨-~\*¤@## ##@¤*\~-¨¨
¨-~\*¤@### ###@¤*\~-¨
¨¨-~\*¤@## ##@¤*\~-¨¨
¨-~\*¤@### ###@¤*\~-¨
¨¨-~\*¤@## ##@¤*\~-¨¨