| Well they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night
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| Now they blew up his house too
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| Down on the boardwalk they’re gettin' ready for a fight
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| Gonna see what them racket boys can do
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| Now there’s trouble busin' in from outta state
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| And the D.A. |
| can’t get no relief
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| Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade
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| And the gamblin' commissions hangin' on by the skin of its teeth
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| Everything dies baby that’s a fact
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| Maybe everything that dies someday comes back
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| Put your makeup on fix your hair up pretty
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| And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
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| Well I got a job and tried to put my money away
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| But I got debts that no honest man can pay
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| So I drew what I had from the Central Trust
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| And I bought us two tickets on that Coast City bus
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| Everything dies baby that’s a fact
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| But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
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| Put your makeup on fix your hair up pretty
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| And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
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| Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold
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| But with you forever I’ll stay
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| We’re goin' out where the sands turnin' to gold
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| Put on your stockin’s cause the nights gettin' cold
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| I been lookin' for a job but it’s hard to find
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| Down here it’s just winners and losers and don’t get caught on the wrong side
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| of that line
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| But I’m tired of comin' out on the losin' end
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| So last night I met this guy and I’m gonna do a little favor for him
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| Everything dies baby that’s a fact
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| Maybe everything that dies someday comes back
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| Put your makeup on fix your hair up pretty
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| And meet me tonight in Atlantic City |