The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll

Bob Dylan

(Official lyrics @ www.bobdylan.com)

The Times They Are A-Changin' session 4 - 23.oct.1963, album version  
Rolling Thunder Revue (October-December 1975):  
    Memorial Auditorium, Worcester MA - 19.nov.1975  
    Harvard Square Theater, Cambridge MA - 20.nov.1975  
    Boston Music Hall, Boston MA - 21.nov.1975 afternoon  
    Boston Music Hall, Boston MA - 21.nov.1975 evening  
    Forum de Montréal, Montréal Québec - 4.dec.1975  
    Madison Square Garden, NYC "Night of the Hurricane" - 8.dec.1975  

William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled 'round his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gatherin'
And the cops were called in an' his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
An' booked William Zanzinger for first degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace
An' 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 an' protect him
An' high office relations in the politics of Maryland
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
An' swear words an' sneerin', an' his tongue it was snarlin'
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walkin'.
But you who philosophize disgrace
An' 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 an' gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
An' 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
An' emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air an' came down through the room
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle
An' she never done nothin' to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace
An' 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 an' persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after an' caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top an' no bottom
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'
An' he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished
An' handed out strongly for penalty an' repentance
William Zanzinger with a six month sentence.
But you who philosophize disgrace
An' criticize all fears
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.