Luyện nghe bài hát The Lonesone Death of Hattie Carroll

The Lonesome Death Of Carroll
Bob

William Zanzinger killed poor Carroll,
With a cane he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a hotel society gath'rin',
And the cops were in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in down to the station,
And booked William for first-degree murder.

But you who philosophize, and criticize all fears,
the rag away from your face, now ain't the time for
tears.

William Zanzinger, who at years,
Owns a farm of six hundred acres
With wealthy parents who provide and protect him,
And office relations in the politics of Maryland,
to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders,
And swear and sneering, and his tongue it was
snarling,
In a matter of minutes on was out walking.

But you who philosophize, and criticize all fears,
the rag away from your face, now ain't the time for
tears.

Hattie was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one old and gave birth to ten children
Who the dishes and took out the garbage,
And never sat at the head of the table
And even talk to the people at the table,
Who cleaned up all the food from the table,
And emptied the ashtrays on a other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a
That sailed through the air and came down the room,
and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she done nothing to William Zanzinger.

But you who philosophize, disgrace and all fears,
the rag away from your face, now ain't the time for
tears.

In the courtroom of honor, the pounded his gavel,
To that all's equal and that the courts are on the

And that the strings in the ain't pulled and
persuaded,
And that even the get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased and caught 'em,
And that the of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who for no reason,
Who happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most and distinguished,

And out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger a six-month sentence.

Oh, but you who philosophize, and criticize all
fears,
Bury the rag deep in your face, for the time for your
tears.