Other Exercises
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William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops called in and his weapon took him
As they rode him in custody to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag from face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With wealthy parents who and protect him
And 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 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 took out the garbage
And never sat at the of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
sailed through the air and came down through the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
In the of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To that all's equal and that the 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 that the cops chased after and '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 without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
With a cane that he around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops called in and his weapon took him
As they rode him in custody to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag from face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With wealthy parents who and protect him
And 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 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 took out the garbage
And never sat at the of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
sailed through the air and came down through the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
In the of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To that all's equal and that the 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 that the cops chased after and '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 without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
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