I was cruising in my Stingray late one night
When an XKE pulled up on the right
And 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"
But 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 shoulda 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 taillights
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 that horrible sight
I guess I found out for myself that everyone was right}

You won't come back from dead man's curve
Dead man's curve
Dead man's curve
Dead man's curve