Bob Dylan Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carrol Lyrics

Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carrol Lyrics

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 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 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.

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.

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.


Submitted by Stephen
Sander
steve_sander
cacdsp,com