Tire E.P.
The lyrics to "Der Michelin" were confiscated during French class by Mr. Lurgens when he caught Graph Head writing them on the inside back cover of his French workbook. Therefore, we are unable to reprint them here. Those who wish to protest can try writing to Mr. Lurgens, c/o Coalinga High School.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 19, 2026
From childhood in mud the inscriptions read Tracks for miles from rubber hieroglyphs bleed The ambling loops that are unassociated In my mind by exhaust The hub when left long amongst man If chromed then lost I'm tired -- so tired You should have seen me shaped Like the perfect circle of sun My bowed back bows only to eternity And the ground round guns 10 per Mack, 2 per cycle I've got to mimic my heroes Running over the ground Feet work like pensive dung poised to fail I bow to the commercials of Uniroyal I'm tired -- so tired.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 19, 2026
Pretty sweet Mary Jane Confectionery and so named In her polka dotted dress Thomas Lipton's tea is best Fist threads! Fast lead! Faxed Head! Forced fed! Fist, fist, fist, fist, fist, fist, fist, fist Get a load of these breasts They're the best in the West Under folds I perspire I like sex, I'm for hire Fist, fist, fist, fist, fist, fist, fist, fist The yawning lad in PJ's Dreams of asphalt and spires Once did try to run away But now it's time to retire
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 19, 2026
I will break bread at Pirelli Deli The ambiance is compelling I sat for iced tea at Pirelli Deli Though my bloody guaze was still smelling In addition to our suicide pact We respect tires, and their rubber track If you filled one up with sniffin' glue Our hearts would stop, that's true At Pirelli Deli That's just what they do.
Submitted by Nargaroth — Jun 19, 2026
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.