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I was cruisin' in my Stingray late one night |
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When an XKE pulled up on the right |
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And rolled down the window of his shiny new Jag |
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And challenged me then and there to a drag |
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I said, "You're on, buddy, my mill's runnin' fine |
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Let's come off the line now, at Sunset and Vine |
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But I'll throw you one better if you've got the nerve |
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Let's race all the way |
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To Dead Man's Curve" |
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Dead Man's Curve, it's no place to play |
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Dead Man's Curve, you best keep away |
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Dead Man's Curve, I can hear 'em say |
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Won't come back from Dead Man's Curve |
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The street was deserted late Friday night |
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We were buggin' each other while we sat out the light |
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We both popped the clutch when the light turned green |
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You should of heard the whine from my screamin' machine |
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I flew past LaBrea, Schwab's, and Crescent Heights |
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And all the Jag could see were my six tail lights |
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He passed me at Doheny then I started to swerve |
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But I pulled her out and there I was |
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At Dead Man's Curve |
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Dead Man's Curve, it's no place to play |
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Dead Man's Curve |
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Well, the last thing I remember, Doc, I started to swerve |
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And then I saw the Jag slide into the curve |
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I know I'll never forget that horrible sight |
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I guess I found out for myself that everyone was right |
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Won't come back from Dead Man's Curve |
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Dead Man's Curve, it's no place to play |
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Dead Man's Curve, you best keep away |
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Dead Man's Curve, I can hear 'em say |
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Won't come back from Dead Man's Curve |
