The Nightmare of the 90's is Alive in Charleston

[Hook: Darko The Super]
I'm gonna kill myself in Charleston
South Carolina with the clowns and piss!
A night like this, I wanna sleep in the ocean
Throw out their beads and magic potions
Politicians wishing upon a star
In the Target parking lot, sleeping in our car

[Verse: Torito]
In the time of porn and pour-overs
Buy canned pints and support your corner-store owners
I'm at the block party, hoarding all the hors d'oeuvres
Greasy bean-bags, cornhole without cornholders
Quite buttery, underlings stultified
Thunder brings bolts inside, eye rings multiplied
Face like "you should have seen the other guy"
Matter fact here's the link, you can peep it on my Shutterfly
It's clip-on tie time for your yeomans
With the overblown combovers, mixing up Mai Thais
I fix the buzz, hive mind, drive-by side-eyes
I've only flown coach, I stay between high-dives and skylines
The nightmare of the 90's still exists
Nestled in between the hills and cliffs
Swilling piss, planned on killing it, now I'm feeling miffed
Taking names and filling lists, raking grain and milling grist
Pass the dream of a nino with a hopscotch cadence
Not trying to be Rockstar-adjacent
But these boxcar vagrants with the crotch-rot fragrance
Like your neighbors got a corpse in the crockpot, braising
I'm part boxers in the brush, part poodles in parks
Wah da tah, coup de grace when I'm shooting some darts
Oafs and herbs misconstrue the bull's heart
You don't deserve this beautiful art!

[Hook: Darko The Super]
I'm gonna kill myself in Charleston
South Carolina with the clowns and piss!
A night like this, I wanna sleep in the ocean
Throw out their beads and magic potions
Politicians wishing upon a star
In the Target parking lot, sleeping in our car

[Verse: Darko The Super]
Me and Torito, I'm Mr. Nobody like Jared Leto
In this land filled with rabid mosquitoes
Dorito dust, crust-punks from the train
Your mouth is bigger than your entire brain
Respect the stormtrooper art?
When's this haunted house show gonna start?
They canceled our gig last minute, now my wig done splitted
You're running for Congress, I'm running out of here
With the coyotes and clear beer
I'm living in an anti-folk song gone wrong
Instead of sleeping in a hollow log, I'm slumped in this chair
Waiting in the fog, I thought I saw God!
But it was just Gilbert Godfrey! Molly Hatchet on the stereo
I dropped to my knees, I'm not gonna die in Charleston
This place sucks, I came here to make bucks!
But I spent mine at The Kickin' Chicken
It was finger-lickin' down by the beach
I felt unwanted like a leech, freak on a leash
Someone should let 'em off it
You smell like you stepped in dog shit and never washed it
Is this your home, or an armpit? Huh?
Can't tell the difference!

[Hook: Darko The Super]
I'm gonna kill myself in Charleston
South Carolina with the clowns and piss!
A night like this, I wanna sleep in the ocean
Throw out their beads and magic potions
Politicians wishing upon a star
In the Target parking lot, sleeping in our car