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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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