William Zantzinger 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 called in
and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody
down to the station
And booked William Zantzinger
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 Zantzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents
who provide and protect him
And high office relations
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 disgrace
and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
- 연 주 중 -
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 just 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 came down through the room,
Doomed and determined
to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done
nothing to William Zantzinger.
But you who philosophize 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 that 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 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,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin'
that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak,
most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly,
for penalty and repentance,
William Zantzinger with
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 your tears.