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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 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 disgrace and all fears,
Take the rag away your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And office relations in the politics of Maryland,
to his deed 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 and 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 carried the dishes 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 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 sailed through the air and through the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag from face.
Now ain't the for tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge 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
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
at the who killed for no reason
Who happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke his cloak, most and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for and repentance,
William Zanzinger a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag in your face
For now's the for your tears.
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel 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 disgrace and all fears,
Take the rag away your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And office relations in the politics of Maryland,
to his deed 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 and 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 carried the dishes 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 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 sailed through the air and through the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag from face.
Now ain't the for tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge 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
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
at the who killed for no reason
Who happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke his cloak, most and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for and repentance,
William Zanzinger a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag in your face
For now's the for your tears.
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