Well they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night
And they blew up his house too
Down on the boardwalk, they're getting ready for a fight
Gonna see what them racket boys can do
Now there's trouble busing in from out of state
And the D.A. can't get no relief
Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade
And the gambling commissioner's hanging on by the skin of his 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 and tried to put my money away
But I got the kind of debt 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

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
We're going out where the sand's turning to gold
So put on your stockings, baby, 'cause the night's getting cold

And everything dies, baby, that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back

Now I been looking for a job, but it's hard to find
Down here, it's just winners and losers and I'm South of the line
Well, I'm tired of coming out on the losing end
So honey, last night I met this guy, I'm gonna do a little favor for him

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