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William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled his diamond finger
At a Baltimore society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from face.
Now ain't the for tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco of six acres
With wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from face.
Now ain't the for tears.
Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed the air and came down through the room,
Doomed and to destroy all the gentle.
And she nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who and all fears,
the rag from your face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and 'em
And the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' way warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
With a cane that he twirled his diamond finger
At a Baltimore society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from face.
Now ain't the for tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco of six acres
With wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from face.
Now ain't the for tears.
Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed the air and came down through the room,
Doomed and to destroy all the gentle.
And she nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who and all fears,
the rag from your face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and 'em
And the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' way warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
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