Well, they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night And they blew up his house, too Down on the boardwalk they're 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 on the promenade And the gamblin' commissioner's hangin' on by the skin of his teeth
Everything dies, baby that's 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 that's 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 I'll stay We'll be goin' out where the sands turn to gold But put your stockings on 'cause it might get cold Oh, everything dies, baby that's 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 I've been a-lookin' for a job, but it's hard to find There's winners and there's losers And I am south of the line Well, I'm 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 that's 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
Compositor: Bruce Springsteen ECAD: Obra #34177136 Fonograma #1832629