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William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
a cane he twirled his diamond ring finger
At a hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in down to the station
And 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 tears.
Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office 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 minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
the rag from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
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 at the of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level,
Got by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came through the room,
Doomed and to all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize and all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
In the of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the get properly handled
Once that the cops chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he through his cloak, deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
a cane he twirled his diamond ring finger
At a hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in down to the station
And 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 tears.
Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office 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 minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
the rag from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
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 at the of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level,
Got by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came through the room,
Doomed and to all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize and all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
In the of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the get properly handled
Once that the cops chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he through his cloak, deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
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