Other Exercises
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William Zanzinger killed poor Carroll
a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag 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
With rich wealthy who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the of Maryland,
Reacted to his with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a 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 Carroll was a of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the and 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 ashtrays on a whole 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 all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag away from face.
Now ain't the for tears.
In the of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the are on the level
And that the strings in the ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once the cops have after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who for no reason
Who happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And 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 in face
For now's the time for tears.
a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag 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
With rich wealthy who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the of Maryland,
Reacted to his with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a 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 Carroll was a of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the and 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 ashtrays on a whole 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 all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag away from face.
Now ain't the for tears.
In the of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the are on the level
And that the strings in the ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once the cops have after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who for no reason
Who happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And 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 in face
For now's the time for tears.
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