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William Zanzinger killed Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize and all fears,
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 parents who and protect him
And in the of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And and sneering, and his it was snarling,
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
Hattie was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one old and birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And sat once 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 whole other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and down the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your 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 nobles get handled
that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way warnin'.
And he through 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 cane that he twirled his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize and all fears,
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 parents who and protect him
And in the of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And and sneering, and his it was snarling,
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
Hattie was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one old and birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And sat once 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 whole other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and down the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your 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 nobles get handled
that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way warnin'.
And he through 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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