Well, they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night
Now, they blew up his house, too
Down on the boardwalk, they're gettin' 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 out on the promenade
And the gamblin' commission's hangin' on by the skin of its 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, tried to put my money away
But I got debts no honest man can pay
So I drew what I had from the Central Trust
And bought us two tickets on that City Coast 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
I'm goin' out where the sands turn to gold
So put on your stockings, baby, it's gettin' cold

And everything dies, baby, that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your hair up nice and sit up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City