Let us second guess ourselves as we stare into the moonlight. Are we everything we want to be or only half? Are we the perfect hour on the rusty clock or just another sentimental dream floating in the orange foamy sea. Let us be someone magical. Forget our beliefs and lose ourselves amongst water falls and cigarette smoke. Like the lucid liquid beginnings and sun burnt tales. Oh there is something beautiful in questioning our motives. Something stunning in junk yard dreams and a squatter's get always. So let us second guess. Let us cling tight to all those doubts. All that love. And the rusty sunburnt stars.