The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll

William Zantzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gatherin'
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
Booked William Zantzinger for first-degree murder

Oh, 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
He reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and cursing, and his tongue it was a-snarling
In a manner of minutes on bail was out walking

Oh, 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 in the kitchen
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Cleaned off the dishes and took out the garbage
Never once sat at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
But 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 room and come down through the air
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle
And she never done nothin' to William Zantzinger

Oh, 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 the gavel
To show that all's equal and the courts are on the level
And 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
He just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'
And he spoke from 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
Now is the time for your tears