The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll

William Zantzinger killed Poor Hattie Carroll   With a canethat 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 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 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 ?n 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 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