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The Lonesome Death Of Hattie CarrollAlbum Version) - Bob Dylan
William Zanzinger 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 Zanzinger
For first-degree murder
And you who philosophize disgrace
And criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain’t the time for your tears
William Zanzinger 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 government 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
And 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 hold 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 Zanzinger
And 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 Zanzinger with a six-month sentence
And you
Who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Bury the rag most deep in your face
For now’s the time for your tears
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