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 outta state
And the D.A. can't get no relief
Gonna be a rumble on the promenade
And the gamblin' 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 debts that no honest man can pay So I drew 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
We'll be goin' out where the sand turn to gold
But put your stockings on 'cause it might get cold
Oh, 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