Lyrics
Well, they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night
They blew up his house too
Down on the boardwalk, they're ready for a fight
Gonna see what them racket boys can do
And there's trouble bustin' in from out of state
And the D.A. can't get no relief
Gonna be a rumble on the promenade
And the gambler commissioner's hanging on by the skin of his teeth
Everything dies, baby, that's a fact
Maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on and fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Looking for a job, but it's hard to find
There's winners and there's losers and I'm south of the line
But I'm tired of getting caught out on a losing end
I talked to a man last night, gonna do a little favor for him
Everything dies, baby, that's a fact
Maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Well, I got a job and I put my money away
But I got the kind of debt that no honest man can pay
So I drew out what I had from the central trust
And bought us two tickets on that coach city bus
Everything dies, baby, that's a fact
Maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
