The street was deserted late Friday night
We were bugging each other while we sat out the light
We both popped the clutch when the light turned green
You should have heard the whine from my screaming machine
I flew past La Bream down to Crescent Heights
And all the Jag could see were my six taillights
He passed me at Doheny and I started to swerve
But I pulled it out and there we were, at Deadman's curve
Deadman's Curve is no place to play
Deadman'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 that horrible sight
I found out for myself that everyone was right:
Won't come back from Deadman's Curve
Deadman's Curve is no place to play
Deadman's Curve, you best keep away
Deadman's Curve, I can hear them say
You won't come back from Deadman's Curve
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