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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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