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 in and his took from him
As they 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 away from your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With 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 matter of minutes on was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and out the garbage
And sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the at the table
Who just up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That through the air and came down through 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 for tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the pounded his gavel
To that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the in the ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once the 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 happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke his cloak, most and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag 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 in and his took from him
As they 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 away from your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With 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 matter of minutes on was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and out the garbage
And sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the at the table
Who just up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That through the air and came down through 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 for tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the pounded his gavel
To that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the in the ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once the 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 happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke his cloak, most and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
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