Other Exercises
Fill In the blanks, then press Score to check your answers
William killed poor Carroll
With a cane he twirled his ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his took from him
As rode him in down to the station
And 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 office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his it was snarling,
In a of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag away 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 birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even to the people at the table
Who 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
That sailed through the air and the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To that all's and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And even the get handled
that the have chased and caught 'em
And the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and all fears,
the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
With a cane he twirled his ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his took from him
As rode him in down to the station
And 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 office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his it was snarling,
In a of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
the rag away 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 birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even to the people at the table
Who 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
That sailed through the air and the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To that all's and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And even the get handled
that the have chased and caught 'em
And the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and all fears,
the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
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