Well, they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night Now, they blew up his house, too Down on the boardwalk, they're gettin' 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 out on the promenade And the gamblin' commission's hangin' on by the skin of its teeth Well now, 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, tried to put my money away But I got debts no honest man can pay So I drew what I had from the Central Trust
And bought us two tickets on that City Coast bus Well now, 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 I'm goin' out where the sands turn to gold So put on your stockings, baby, it's gettin' cold And everything dies, baby, that's a fact But maybe everything that dies someday comes back Put your hair up nice and sit up pretty And meet me tonight in Atlantic City Meet me tonight in Atlantic City Meet me tonight in Atlantic City