Bob Dylan - The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll

Lyrics to songs can be anything, but most of the time, we listen because they tell stories.

A poem recited over melody is one thing, clever twists of phrase is what makes lyrics great. I remember the first verse of "A Day In the Life," written by John Lennon, as being especially representative of juxtaposing words of a story so well. I'll write about that someday soon.

No one will deny that Bob Dylan wrote great lyrics. Many of the songs we know by Dylan are known as much for the words he used as the tunes he hung them on. Digging deeper into Dylan's catalog than I ever had, I stumbled across a song I'm sure I had heard before, but equally sure I had not properly listened to, either.

In classic Bob Dylan style, it's just his singing, an acoustic guitar and the harmonica solo. His voice is at it's peak of it's emotion, his breath is under perfect control. It is a true story, so straightforward and rich with imagery, it actually requires no other explanation for itself.

William Devereux "Billy" Zantzinger passed away on January 3rd, 2009.


The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
by 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 was 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 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 Zantzinger
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 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 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