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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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