The Panic Is On

What this country is comin' to Some 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 Things are gettin' worser each and every day Nothin' to eat no place to sleep All night long folks are walkin' the street Doggone I mean the panic is on Saw a man this morning walking down the street No shoes on his feet You oughta seen the women in their flats You could hear 'em sayin' "what kind of man is that?" Doggone I mean the panic is on All them landlords done raised the rent Folks are gettin' broken and they're badly bent Where they get the dough from goodness knows But if they don't produce it in the street they go Doggone I mean the panic is on Some play numbers some read your mind Some got rackets of all kinds Some are trimmin' corns off of people's feet They got to do something just to make ends meet Doggone I mean the panic is on Some women sellin' apples some sellin' pie Sellin' gin whiskey and rye Some are sellin' socks to support their man In fact some sellin' everything they can Doggone I mean the panic is on I've pawned my clothes I've pawned my everything Pawned my jewlery my watch and ring Pawned my razor but not my gun If luck don't change they'll be some stealin' done Doggone I mean the panic is on Old prohibition's ruined everything That is why I must sing Here's one thing I want you all to hear If they don't bring back light wine gin and beer Doggone the panic will be on