"The Panic Is On" lyrics - DEBORAH HOLLAND

What this country is coming to
I sure would like to know
If they don't do something by and by
The rich will live and the poor will die
Doggone, I mean the panic is on

Can't get no work, can't draw no pay
Unemployment getting worser every day
Nothing to eat, no place to sleep
All night long folks walkin' the street
Doggone, I mean the panic is on

All the landlords done raised the rent
Folks that ain't broke is badly bent
Where they get dough from, goodness knows
But if they don't produce it in the street they goes
Doggone, I mean the panic is on

Some women are selling apples, some selling pies
Some selling gin and rye
Some selling socks to support their man
In fact, some are selling anything they can
Doggone, I mean the panic is on

I pawned my clothes and everything
Pawned my jewelry, watch, and my ring
Pawned my razor and my gun
So if luck don't change, there'll be some stealing done
Doggone, I mean the panic is on

Old Prohibition ruined everything
That's why I'm forced to sing
Here's one thing I want you all to to hear
Until they bring back light wine, gin, and beer
Doggone, the panic will be on