Bob Dylan — The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll

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Текст Bob Dylan — The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll

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 in 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,
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 ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason,
Who just happened to be feeling that way witout warning,
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.