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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. ,,,,,,,^~:
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@%:~^,,,,, 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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