Other Exercises
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William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his took from him
As they rode him in custody to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace 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
rich parents who provide and him
And high office 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 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 to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just up all the 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 came 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,
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 that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And the of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he his cloak, most 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 he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his took from him
As they rode him in custody to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace 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
rich parents who provide and him
And high office 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 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 to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just up all the 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 came 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,
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 that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And the of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he his cloak, most 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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