Other Exercises
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William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his took him
As they rode him in down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away 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 parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his with a shrug of his shoulders
And 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 criticize all fears,
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 to ten children
Who carried the and out the garbage
And sat once 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 whole other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed the air and came through 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 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 courts are on the level
And that the in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And even the nobles get properly handled
that the cops have 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 happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
With a cane he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his took him
As they rode him in down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away 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 parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his with a shrug of his shoulders
And 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 criticize all fears,
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 to ten children
Who carried the and out the garbage
And sat once 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 whole other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed the air and came through 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 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 courts are on the level
And that the in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And even the nobles get properly handled
that the cops have 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 happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
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