Song lyrics The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll by 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.
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 Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm
of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parent
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
and came down through the room,
Doomed and determined
to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing
to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace
and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.

AIn 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.
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