text: Well, they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night
  And now they blew up his house too
  Down on the boardwalk, theyre gettin ready for a fight
  Gonna see what them racket boys can do
  Now theres trouble busin in from outta state
  And the D.A. cant get no relief
  Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade
  And the gamblin commissioners hangin on by the skin of his teeth
  Everything dies, baby, thats a fact
  But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
  Put your makeup on and fix your hair real pretty
  And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
  Well, I got a job and I tried to put my money away
  Man, I got debts that no honest man can pay
  So I drew what I had out from the Central Trust
  And then I bought us two tickets on that Coast City bus
  Everything dies, baby, thats a fact
  And maybe everything that dies someday comes back
  Put your makeup on and fix your hair real pretty
  And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
  Well, our luck may have died and our love may be cold
  But with you forever Ill stay
  Were goin out where the sands turn to gold
  So put on your stockings, baby, cause the nights getting cold
  And everything dies, baby, thats a fact
  But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
  Now I been lookin for a job but its hard to find
  Out here its winners and losers
  And dont get caught on the wrong side of that line
  Im tired of comin out on the losin end
  So last night I met a guy downtown, Im gonna do a little favor for him
  Everything dies and baby, thats a fact
  But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
  Put your makeup on, fix your hair real pretty
  And meet me tonight in Atlantic City