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Lyrics:
The Panic Is On by Hezekiah Jenkins
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.
Unemployment getting worser every day,
Nothing to eat and no place to sleep,
All night long, folks is walkin' the street,
Doggone, I mean the panic is on.
Saw a man this morning walking down the street,
In his BVD's, no shoes on his feet,
You ought to seen the women curvin' in they flat,
I could hear them saying, "What kind of man is that?"
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 play the numbers, some read your mind,
They've all got a racket of some kind.
Some trimmin' corns off 'a people's feet,
They got to do something to make ends meet,
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 they 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, my watch and my ring.
Pawned my razor, an' 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 hear,
Until they bring back light wine, gin and beer,
Doggone, the panic will be on.
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