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Parking Lot

de Mumford & Sons

Well, they blew up the chickenman 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 night is 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

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