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 passed 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