Other Exercises
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William killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore society gath'rin'.
And the cops in and his took from him
As they rode him in custody to the station
And William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and 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 rich who provide and him
And high 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 on was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize 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 the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a other level,
Got by a blow, lay slain by a cane
sailed through the air and came down the room,
Doomed and determined to all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge 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 the nobles get properly handled
Once the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just to be feelin' way without warnin'.
And he his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and all fears,
Bury the rag in face
For now's the for your tears.
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore society gath'rin'.
And the cops in and his took from him
As they rode him in custody to the station
And William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and 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 rich who provide and him
And high 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 on was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize 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 the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a other level,
Got by a blow, lay slain by a cane
sailed through the air and came down the room,
Doomed and determined to all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge 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 the nobles get properly handled
Once the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just to be feelin' way without warnin'.
And he his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and all fears,
Bury the rag in face
For now's the for your tears.
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