Song: Pretty Little Dead Girl.
It's a very sad story; it's a very sad tale,
All about what can happen when your brake lines fail.
It's the tale of Rose Marshall -- the sweetest sixteen --
And why you shouldn't race on Sidewinder Ravine...
Let me tell you about Rose Marshall,
The sweetest girl that you'd ever see.
They always say that the good die young, well,
She died back in fifty-three,
Kept a prom night date with the cemetary.
They used to call her her Daddy's darling.
The people said she'd go pretty far.
She had the love of friends and family,
But little Rosie loved her car,
Used to fly through the night like a shooting star...
Now she's a pretty little dead girl in a coup de ville,
And she's looking for a drag race up on Dead Man's Hill,
And if you've got a brain, boy, you'd better drive on by.
Because she looks real sweet and she smiles real nice,
But you'd better take some well-meant good advice:
If you race with Rose, then you're probably gonna die.
No one's really quite sure what happened --
None of the folks involved survived.
Three hours to prom and Rose got restless,
Said she was going for a drive.
It was the last time they saw her alive.
The sheriff said she'd been doing ninety
Along the edge of the ravine;
Two sets of tracks -- but here's the strange thing:
The other car was never seen.
Whoever clipped Rose, well, they got away clean.
Now she's a pretty little dead girl in a coup de ville,
And she's looking for a drag race up on Dead Man's Hill,
And if you want to live, boy, you'd better drive on by.
Because she doesn't play by any laws --
She's a pretty little kitty, but this cat's got claws,
And if you race with Rose, then you're probably gonna die.
'bout three years later the stories started;
They say she's out there on the hill.
They say she's looking for a prom date.
So long dead and she's sixteen still.
She never grew up and she never will.
Some people say that she's just a legend;
Some people say that she's something more.
Here's what I know: when Rose gets restless,
She still puts the pedal through the floor,
And her boyfriends don't come home no more --
If you get in her way then she'll ask you to race her,
It's like a shot of 'dumb idea' with a 'bad plan' chaser,
'Cause she's a bat out of hell wearing patent leather shoes.
She's not lookin' for a saviour, she's not lookin' for a ride,
And you shouldn't go look for her if you're not a suicide,
Because it's been fifty years and nobody's seen her lose.
If you beat her in a race, well, she'll give you her pink slip,
But if she beats you to the curve, then you're in for a long trip,
'Cause she's looking for a boyfriend who can dance the whole night through.
She's a little out of date but she's never out of style,
And she'll lead you to your fate with a shimmy and a smile,
So if you feel like living, don't let Rosie race with you.
Let me tell you about Rose Marshall --
Might be the last thing you'll ever see.
They say some stories will never die,
Well, she died back in fifty-three,
Kept her prom night date with the cemetary.
She died back in fifty-three,
Kept her prom night date with the cemetary...
Pretty dead girl, pretty little dead girl.
Pretty dead girl, pretty little dead girl.
Pretty dead girl, pretty little dead girl.
Pretty little dead girl in a coup de ville.
All about what can happen when your brake lines fail.
It's the tale of Rose Marshall -- the sweetest sixteen --
And why you shouldn't race on Sidewinder Ravine...
Let me tell you about Rose Marshall,
The sweetest girl that you'd ever see.
They always say that the good die young, well,
She died back in fifty-three,
Kept a prom night date with the cemetary.
They used to call her her Daddy's darling.
The people said she'd go pretty far.
She had the love of friends and family,
But little Rosie loved her car,
Used to fly through the night like a shooting star...
Now she's a pretty little dead girl in a coup de ville,
And she's looking for a drag race up on Dead Man's Hill,
And if you've got a brain, boy, you'd better drive on by.
Because she looks real sweet and she smiles real nice,
But you'd better take some well-meant good advice:
If you race with Rose, then you're probably gonna die.
No one's really quite sure what happened --
None of the folks involved survived.
Three hours to prom and Rose got restless,
Said she was going for a drive.
It was the last time they saw her alive.
The sheriff said she'd been doing ninety
Along the edge of the ravine;
Two sets of tracks -- but here's the strange thing:
The other car was never seen.
Whoever clipped Rose, well, they got away clean.
Now she's a pretty little dead girl in a coup de ville,
And she's looking for a drag race up on Dead Man's Hill,
And if you want to live, boy, you'd better drive on by.
Because she doesn't play by any laws --
She's a pretty little kitty, but this cat's got claws,
And if you race with Rose, then you're probably gonna die.
'bout three years later the stories started;
They say she's out there on the hill.
They say she's looking for a prom date.
So long dead and she's sixteen still.
She never grew up and she never will.
Some people say that she's just a legend;
Some people say that she's something more.
Here's what I know: when Rose gets restless,
She still puts the pedal through the floor,
And her boyfriends don't come home no more --
If you get in her way then she'll ask you to race her,
It's like a shot of 'dumb idea' with a 'bad plan' chaser,
'Cause she's a bat out of hell wearing patent leather shoes.
She's not lookin' for a saviour, she's not lookin' for a ride,
And you shouldn't go look for her if you're not a suicide,
Because it's been fifty years and nobody's seen her lose.
If you beat her in a race, well, she'll give you her pink slip,
But if she beats you to the curve, then you're in for a long trip,
'Cause she's looking for a boyfriend who can dance the whole night through.
She's a little out of date but she's never out of style,
And she'll lead you to your fate with a shimmy and a smile,
So if you feel like living, don't let Rosie race with you.
Let me tell you about Rose Marshall --
Might be the last thing you'll ever see.
They say some stories will never die,
Well, she died back in fifty-three,
Kept her prom night date with the cemetary.
She died back in fifty-three,
Kept her prom night date with the cemetary...
Pretty dead girl, pretty little dead girl.
Pretty dead girl, pretty little dead girl.
Pretty dead girl, pretty little dead girl.
Pretty little dead girl in a coup de ville.