Other Exercises
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William poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his ring finger
At a hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon from him
As they rode 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 away from your face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
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 from face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
Hattie was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And sat once at the of the table
And didn't even to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed the air and came down the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she done 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 tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the pounded his gavel
To that all's equal and the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the have chased after and caught 'em
And that the of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' way without warnin'.
And he spoke his cloak, 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 around his ring finger
At a hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon from him
As they rode 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 away from your face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
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 from face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
Hattie was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And sat once at the of the table
And didn't even to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed the air and came down the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she done 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 tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the pounded his gavel
To that all's equal and the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the have chased after and caught 'em
And that the of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' way without warnin'.
And he spoke his cloak, 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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