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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. ##§&*;--¨¨
¨¨¨--;*&§# #§&*;--¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨--;*&§ 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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