The big day begins, all cars line up.
Wondering who will win, the Winston Cup.
The flag goes down, all hit the track,
All eyes on Number 3, The Man In Black.
Some come to watch, and hoped he'd win,
Wondering if his car, will go into a spin.
Disliked by some, but respected by all,
But a sad Sunday it was, when he hit the wall.
With the race underway, he gains with the rest,
Once again showing, he's one of the best.
Showing his skills, with the fans and the track,
Trying for the lead, is The Man In Black.
Only half mile to finish, on the very last lap,
Then comes the crash.... Earnhardt is trapped.
Waltrip and Dale Jr., in the lead up ahead,
Eyes focusing on them, not knowing Earnhardt is dead.
Thoughts running through, the head of the pack,
Not knowing for sure, about The Man In Black.
Crossing the finish line, as the crowd cheers on,
No one realizing, Earnhardt's now gone.
There are no promises... and no guarantee
As Dale climbed into... black car number 3.
The wreck, the debris, we saw on that day,
We still think back, with disbelief and dismay.
Gone to another racetrack, up in the sky,
We must now bid farewell... and tell him goodbye.
But the true Victory Lane, where now he will rest,
Is with God above, where he'll always be blessed.
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