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¨-~**=£££¶ I Follow The Tire Tracks West. They Go ¶£££=**~-¨
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¨¨¨¨¨-*£¤@ 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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