We serve an old man in a dry season, a lighthouse keeper in the desert sun. Dreamers of sleepers and white treason, we dream of rain and the mystery of the gun. There's a lighthouse in the middle of Prussia, a white house in the Red Square. And we're living in films for the sake of Russia, a kino runner for the DDR. And the fifty-two daughters of the revolution turn the gold to chrome. Gift, nothing to lose. Stuck inside of Memphis in a mobile home.