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William Zanzinger poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore gath'rin'.
And the cops in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With wealthy who provide and him
And high office in the of Maryland,
to his deed a shrug of his shoulders
And swear and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes 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 just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the on a other level,
Got by a blow, lay slain by a cane
sailed through the air and down through the room,
Doomed and determined to all the gentle.
And she never nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the get properly handled
that the cops have after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
at the person 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 Zanzinger a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag deep in face
For now's the time for your tears.
With a cane he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore gath'rin'.
And the cops in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With wealthy who provide and him
And high office in the of Maryland,
to his deed a shrug of his shoulders
And swear and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes 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 just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the on a other level,
Got by a blow, lay slain by a cane
sailed through the air and down through the room,
Doomed and determined to all the gentle.
And she never nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the get properly handled
that the cops have after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
at the person 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 Zanzinger a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag deep in face
For now's the time for your tears.
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