Deadman's Curve

The street was desserted late Friday night We were buggin' each other while we sat out the light We both popped our clutch when the light turned green You should have heard the wine from my screamin' machine I flew past La Brea, down to Crescent Heights And all the Jag could see were my six tail lights He pa*sed me at Doheny and I started to swerve But I pulled her 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 curb 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 Won't come back from Deadman's Curve