Deborah Holland - The Panic Is On lyrics

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 j**elry, 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