text: Well, they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night
  And they blew up his house, too
  Down on the boardwalk, theyre getting ready for a fight
  Gonna see what them racket boys can do
  Now theres trouble busing in from out of state
  And the D.A. cant get no relief
  Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade
  And the gambling commissions hanging on by the skin of its teeth
  Well, now, everything dies, baby, thats 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 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
  Well, now, everything dies, baby, thats 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, Ill stay
  Were going out where the sands turning 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 looking for a job, but its hard to find
  Down here, its just winners and losers and Dont get caught on the wrong side of that line
  Well, Im tired of coming out on the losing end
  So, honey, last night, I met this guy, and Im gonna do a little favor for him
  Well, now, everything dies, baby, thats 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