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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. ¨~«\*&&@##
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##@&&*\«~¨ 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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