Well, they blew up the Chicken Man in Philly last night, and they blew up his house too. Out on the boardwalk they're ready for a fight. They are going to see what the racket boys can do. Now there's trouble busing in from out of state, and the DA can't get no relief. There's gonna be a rumble on the promenade, and the gambling commissioner is hanging on by the skin of his teeth. I got a job and put my money away, but I've got the kind of debt that no honest man could pay. So I drew out what I had from the central trust, and I bought us two tickets on the Coast City bus. Now, our luck may have died and our love may be cold, but with you, forever I'll stay. We'll be going out west where the sands turn to gold. Put your stockings on, 'cause it might get cold. I've been looking for a job, but it's hard to find. There's winners and there's losers and I'm south of the line. I'm tired of getting caught on the losing end, but I talked to a man last night. I am going to do a little favor for him. 

In conclusion, everything dies, baby that's a fact. But maybe everything that dies, some day it comes back. So get your makeup on and fix your hair up pretty. And meet me tonight in Atlantic City