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' commission's hangin' on by the skin of its teeth
(Chorus)
Well now 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 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
(Chorus)
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
sand's turnin' to gold so put on your stockin's baby `cause the night's
getting cold
And everything dies baby 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 hair up nice and
set up pretty
and meet me tonight in Atlantic
City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic
City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic
City
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |