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William Zanzinger poor Hattie Carroll
With a he around his diamond finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy who provide and protect him
And office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed with a of his shoulders
And words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a matter of minutes on was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who the dishes and out the garbage
And never sat at the head of the table
And didn't talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a other level,
Got by a blow, lay by a cane
That through the air and came down the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
the rag from face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the get properly handled
that the cops have chased after and 'em
And that the of law has no top and no bottom,
at the who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
With a he around his diamond finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy who provide and protect him
And office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed with a of his shoulders
And words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a matter of minutes on was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who the dishes and out the garbage
And never sat at the head of the table
And didn't talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a other level,
Got by a blow, lay by a cane
That through the air and came down the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
the rag from face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the get properly handled
that the cops have chased after and 'em
And that the of law has no top and no bottom,
at the who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
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