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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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