Other Exercises
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William poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they him in custody to the station
And William for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a farm of six acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from 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 dishes and took out the garbage
And sat once at the of the table
And didn't even to the people at the table
Who cleaned up all the the table
And the ashtrays on a whole level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room,
and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who 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 all's equal and the are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who for no reason
Who happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for tears.
With a cane that he his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they him in custody to the station
And William for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from face.
Now ain't the for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a farm of six acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from 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 dishes and took out the garbage
And sat once at the of the table
And didn't even to the people at the table
Who cleaned up all the the table
And the ashtrays on a whole level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room,
and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who 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 all's equal and the are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who for no reason
Who happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for tears.
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( Automatic Translation )
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