歌词

Well, they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night They blew up his house too Down on the boardwalk, they're ready for a fight Gonna see what them racket boys can do And there's trouble bustin' in from out of state And the D.A. can't get no relief Gonna be a rumble on the promenade And the gambler commissioner's hanging on by the skin of his teeth Everything dies, baby, that's a fact Maybe everything that dies someday comes back Put your makeup on and fix your hair up pretty And meet me tonight in Atlantic City Looking for a job, but it's hard to find There's winners and there's losers and I'm south of the line But I'm tired of getting caught out on a losing end I talked to a man last night, gonna do a little favor for him Everything dies, baby, that's a fact 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 I put my money away But I got the kind of debt that no honest man can pay So I drew out what I had from the central trust And bought us two tickets on that coach city bus Everything dies, baby, that's a fact Maybe everything that dies someday comes back Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Writer(s): Bruce Springsteen Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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