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killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his took 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,
Take the rag away your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a farm of six acres
With rich wealthy who provide and protect him
And high office in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed with a shrug 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 and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away 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 carried the dishes and out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the at the table
Who cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole level,
Got killed by a blow, lay by a cane
sailed the air and came the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she done nothing to Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and all fears,
the rag away 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 the strings in the ain't pulled and persuaded
And even the nobles get handled
Once that the 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 happened to be feelin' that way warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger 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 gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his took 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,
Take the rag away your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a farm of six acres
With rich wealthy who provide and protect him
And high office in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed with a shrug 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 and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away 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 carried the dishes and out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the at the table
Who cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole level,
Got killed by a blow, lay by a cane
sailed the air and came the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she done nothing to Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and all fears,
the rag away 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 the strings in the ain't pulled and persuaded
And even the nobles get handled
Once that the 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 happened to be feelin' that way warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger 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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