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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 show 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.
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 show 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.
Lyrics submitted by Jack, edited by Mellow_Harsher
Track duration: 05:45
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Isn't it funny that later Zanzieger spent 19 months in jail for misdemeanor, but for killing the poor woman he was sentenced 6... Well now he's dead and i'm kinda glad - one bad man lesser.
First off, Dylan's genius wordplay is established right away as he sings,
"William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll with a cane that he twirled round his diamond ring finger."
I love that Dylan doesnt just say Zanzinger's ring finger, but his DIAMOND ring finger. Dylan establishes right away the distinction between POOR (two meanings) Hattie Carroll and rich William Zangzinger, who has a diamond ring on his hand.
Another wonderful thing Dylan does with his lyrics in this song is the way in which he builds up the story in each verse until it hits its tragic end. Each verse gets sadder than the last. In Verse 1, we learn that Zanzinger killed Hattie Caroll with a cane, which is a tragedy in and of itself. However, Dylan tellls his audience to take the rag away from their faces, because this is not the saddest part of the story.
In the next verse, we learn who Zanzinger actually is- a horrible man who grew up wealthy and abused people who he thought were below him. We then learn he walked out of jail hours after the crime. Still, it is not time for tears because this is still not the saddest part of the story.
Then we learn who Hattie Caroll was- a poor maid, who mothered 10 children, and spent her entire adult life serving people who were wealthier than her and abused her. This innocent woman was killed by one of those wealthy men. Still, this is not the saddest part of the story.
From there, Dylan goes into a perfectly timed harmonica solo to build up the sad ending he is about to tell us.
He comes back subdued and calm telling us about the trial of Zanzinger. The courtroom hides behind a veil that makes everything seem equal and fair, but in this case it is none of this. As Dylan continues to describe what goes in the courtroom, he gets louder and louder really stressing his words, and establishing his anger. Then we learn the saddest part of the story- Zanzinger is given only a 6 month sentence for his heinous crime. Once again, an innocent black person is killed for no reason, and justice is not served. A hateful murderer walks the street and continues to make more money and abuse and degrade people below him.
Justice is NOT served. This is the most tragic part of the story. It is now time for us to bury the rags into our faces. It is now time for our tears.
Notably he also uses the masculine mono-syllabbic scheme when she is 'slain by a cane' to produce the similar effect.