Bob Dylan – The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll (Guitar)

C          Am            Em
William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll

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With a cane that he twirled 'round his diamond ring finger

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At a Baltimore hotel society gatherin'

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And the cops was called in and his weapon took from him

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As they rode him in custody down to the station

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And booked William Zanzinger for first degree murder

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But you who philosophise disgrace

    F    G        C
And criticise all fears

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Take the rag away from your face

F             G             C
Now ain't the time for your tears

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William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years

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Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres

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With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him

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And high office relations in the politics of Maryland

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Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders

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And swear words and sneering and his tongue it was a-snarling

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And in a matter of minutes on bail was out walking

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But you who philosophise disgrace

    F    G    C
And criticise fears

F        G    C             Am
Take the rag away from your face

F             G             C
Now ain't the time for your tears

C      Am            Em
Hattie Carroll was a maid in the kitchen

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She was 51 years old and gave birth to ten children

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Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage

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And never sat once at the head of the table

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And didn't even talk to the people at the table

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Who just cleaned up all the food from the table

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And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level

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Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane

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That sailed through the air and came down through the room

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Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle

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And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger

    F   G      C            Am
And you who philosophise disgrace

    F    G        C
And criticise all fears

F        G    C             Am
Take the rag away from your face

F             G             C
Now ain't the time for your tears

       C            Am               Em
In the courtroom of honour the judge pounded his gavel

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To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level

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And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded

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And that even the nobles get properly handled

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Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em

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And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom

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Stared at the person who killed for no reason

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Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'

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And he spoke through his cloak most deep and distinguished

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And handed out strongly for penalty and repentance

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William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence

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Ah but you who philosophise disgrace

    F    G        C
And criticise all fears

F        G   C            Am
Bury the rag deep in your face

    F         G             C
For now's the time for your tears