Three, Comin' Outta Four

A thousand times we've heard it, above the engines' thunder,
The Three car makes a move, on another driver's blunder,
The announcer screams into his mic,
"Earnhardt's slammed the door!"
With a quick glance down the track we see Three, comin' outta four....

Four wide they come, amid the smoke, and sometimes even more,
Thy're headin' for the checkered and racin' door to door,
But one car dominates, it's headin' up the pack,
Its drivers name is Dale, and the car is painted black...

They're standing on the throttles and the tachs are in the red,
They're doin' all they can, but they can't pass "Ironhead",
They try him high, they try him low, the track's not wide enough,
When Three comes outta four the "Intimidator's just too TOUGH....

But the Good Lord sent an angel, dressed in Goodwrench black,
To fetch home a hero from that Daytona track,
The angel came down on turn four from that breeze Florida sky,
And the news he left behind made brave and strong men cry....

"We've lost Dale Earnhardt" we heard Mike Helton say,
And we will always remember the sadness on that day,
And a little bit of sadness will dwell forevermore,
As we vainly look for Three, Comin Outta Four....

Now the saints will fill the gradstands at that Big Track In The Sky,
There's a rookie in the field and that man can really fly,
And no one has to ask his name or wonder who he may be,
"Cause they all know that black car, with that big white number Three....