Well, they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night
Now there's trouble bustin' in from outta state
Well now everything dies, baby, that's a fact
Well I got a job and tried to put my money away
Now baby, everything dies, baby, that's a fact
Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold
Now I've been lookin' for a job, but it's hard to find
Well I guess everything dies, baby, that's a fact
Return to Bruce Springsteen lyrics.
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
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 his teeth
but maybe everything that dies someday comes back
put your make up on, fix your hair up pretty
and meet me tonight in Atlantic City
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
but maybe everything that dies someday comes back
put your make up on, fix your hair up pretty
and meet me tonight in Atlantic City
but with you forever I'll stay
we're goin' out where the sand's turnin' to gold
put on your stockings baby, `cause the night's getting cold
and maybe everything dies, baby, that's a fact
but maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Down here it's just winners and losers and don't get caught on the wrong side of that line
Well I'm tired of comin' out on this losin' end
So, honey, last night I met this guy and I'm gonna do a little favor for him
but maybe everything that dies someday comes back
put your hair up nice, fix it up pretty
and meet me tonight in Atlantic City
and meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Return to main page.