Letra da Música: The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll - Bob Dylan

William Zantzinger 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 Zantzinger
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 Zantzinger, 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
Came down through the room
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle
And she never done nothing to William Zantzinger
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 that the strings in the books
Ain't pulled 'n 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 distinguished
And handed out strongly
For penalty and repentance
William Zantzinger 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