I was cruisin' in my Stingray late one night
When an XKE pulled up on the right
He rolled down the window of his shiny new Jag
And challenged me then and there to a drag
I said, "you're on, buddy, my mill's runnin' fine
Let's come off the line, now, at Sunset and Vine
I'll go you one better if you've got the nerve
Let's race all the way
To Dead Man's Curve
Dead Man's Curve,
Dead Man's Curve,
Won't come back from Dead Man's Curve
The street was deserted late Friday night
We were buggin' each other while we sat out the light
We both popped the clutch when the light turned green
You should of heard the whine from my screamin' machine
I flew past LaBrea, Schwab's, and Crescent Heights
And all the Jag could see were my six tail lights
He passed me at Doheny then I started to swerve
But I pulled her out and there we were
At Dead Man's Curve
Well - the last thing I remember, Doc, I started to swerve
And then I saw the Jag slide into the curve
I know I'll never forget thta horrible sight
And this I found out for myself that everyone was right
Won't come back from Dead Man's Curve
Dead Man's Curve
Dead Man's Curve
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