Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Atlantic City , by - American Boys. Release date: 25.05.2014
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Atlantic City , by - American Boys. Atlantic City |
| 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' commissions |
| hangin' on by the skin |
| of its teeth |
| 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 |
| and tried |
| to put my money away |
| But I got in too deep |
| and I could not pay |
| So I drew 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 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 |
| We’re goin' out |
| where the sands |
| turnin' to gold |
| so put |
| on your stockin’s |
| cause the nights |
| gettin' cold |
| and maybe |
| everything dies |
| That’s a fact |
| but maybe |
| everything |
| that dies someday |
| comes back |
| Now |
| I been lookin' |
| for a job |
| but it’s hard |
| to find |
| 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 the losin' end |
| So honey |
| last night |
| I met this guy |
| and I’m gonna do a little favor |
| for him |
| Well |
| I guess |
| 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 |