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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. ,^~\¤#@@##
#†\\^,,,,, ,,,,,^\\†#
@#¤\^,,,,, 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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