Other Exercises
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William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore 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 Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize 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
rich wealthy parents who and protect him
And office relations in the politics of Maryland,
to his deed 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 your face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
Hattie was a of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who the 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 from the table
And the ashtrays on a whole level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed the air and down through 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 your tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the are on the level
And that the in the ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
at the person 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 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 twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore 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 Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize 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
rich wealthy parents who and protect him
And office relations in the politics of Maryland,
to his deed 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 your face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
Hattie was a of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who the 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 from the table
And the ashtrays on a whole level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed the air and down through 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 your tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the are on the level
And that the in the ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
at the person 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 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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