Maybe we'll meet again in August when I'm 21

Lyrics: Blossom Hazarika Music: Blossom Hazarika Cuss oh That's just a piece of my heart and it's roughing up a lot of fuss Go, pockets are puppets, my hands will make em walk so maybe I better rush
Falling out of places misery's macabre Heaving a lot of them sweating a silent sob Wondering lately is it the sign of calm Dream is a loony but I'm craving for her palm Inalienable, tied to a shackle Suffle the satire, sink like a pebble I hear the murmurs and I guess you do too A lateral chaos and we are the issue Film strips chopped into still pics shoved into fam trips solitude impulsive killing in due Resonant packets of menacing air Lurking in anticipation what to repair I'll prolly say this will pass through **** it I miss you