Other Exercises
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William Zanzinger poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane he twirled around his ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in to the station
And booked William for first-degree murder.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag 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 rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a of minutes on was out walking.
But you who disgrace and all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the for tears.
Hattie was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave to ten children
Who the dishes and took 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 on a other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and 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 from your face.
Now ain't the time for 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 books ain't pulled and persuaded
And even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have after and caught 'em
And the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And out strongly, for and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag deep in face
For now's the for tears.
With a cane he twirled around his ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in to the station
And booked William for first-degree murder.
But you who disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag 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 rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a of minutes on was out walking.
But you who disgrace and all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the for tears.
Hattie was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave to ten children
Who the dishes and took 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 on a other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and 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 from your face.
Now ain't the time for 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 books ain't pulled and persuaded
And even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have after and caught 'em
And the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And out strongly, for and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag deep in face
For now's the for tears.
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