#@@@%:~^,,                                          ,,^~:%@@@#
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#@@@%:~^,,                                          ,,^~:%@@@#
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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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@%:~^,,,,,                                          ,,,,,^~:%@
%:~^,,,,,,                                          ,,,,,,^~:%
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