text: Well, they blew up the Chicken Man in Philly last night
  And they blew up his house too
  Down on the boardwalk theyre 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 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 some day 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 out what I had from the Central Trust
  And I bought us two tickets on that Coast City bus
  Everything dies, baby, thats a fact
  But maybe everything that dies some day 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
  Well be goin out where the sand turns to gold
  But put your stockings on, cause it might get cold
  Oh, everything dies, baby, thats a fact
  But maybe everything that dies some day comes back
  Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
  And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
  Now Ive been a-lookin for a job, but its hard to find
  Theres winners and theres losers and Im south of the line
  Well, Im tired of gettin caught out on the losin end
  But I talked to a man last night, gonna do a little favor for him
  Well, everything dies, baby, thats a fact
  But maybe everything that dies some day comes back
  Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
  And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
  Oh, meet me tonight in Atlantic City
  Oh, meet me tonight in Atlantic City