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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
Well they blew up the Chicken Man in Philly last night And they blew up his house, too Down on the boardwalk, they're ready for a fight Gonna see what them racket boys can do Now there's trouble busin' in from out of state And the D.A. can't get no relief Gonna be a rumble on that promenade And the gambling commissioner's hangin' on by the skin of his teeth Everything dies baby that's a fact But 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 I bought us two tickets on that Coast City bus Everything dies baby that's a fact But maybe everything that dies someday comes back Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty And meet me tonight in Atlantic City Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold But with you forever I'll stay Well we're going out where the sand turns to gold But put your stockings on, ‘cause it might get cold Everything dies baby that's a fact, But maybe everything that dies someday comes back Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty And meet me tonight in Atlantic City Now I been looking for a job but it's hard to find There's winners and there's losers And I'm south of the line Well I'm tired of gettin' caught out on the losin' end Well I talked to a man last night gonna do a little favor for him Well everything dies baby that's a fact But maybe everything that dies someday comes back Put your make up on, fix your hair up pretty And meet me tonight in Atlantic City Oh meet me tonight in Atlantic City Oh meet me tonight in Atlantic City |