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William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane he his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they him in custody down to the station
And booked William for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag from face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
Hattie Carroll 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 at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the from the table
And the ashtrays on a whole other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to Zanzinger.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the pounded his gavel
To show all's equal and that the are on the level
And that the in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger 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 for your tears.
With a cane he his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they him in custody down to the station
And booked William for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag from face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
Hattie Carroll 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 at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the from the table
And the ashtrays on a whole other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to Zanzinger.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the pounded his gavel
To show all's equal and that the are on the level
And that the in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger 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 for your tears.
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