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    BBob Dylan • The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll (аккорды и текст - chords & lyrics)


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    Видео «The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll (Bob Dylan)»

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    (capo on 4th fret)
    
    E X32010
    A X33211
    G#m 022000
    C#m7 C02010
    B 320003
    
    (6/8 time ^?– ONE -two -three -FOUR -five -six . . . ^?– two measures per
    line)
    
    E A E G#m
    William Zantzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
    
    E A E G#m
    With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
    E G#m E G#m
    At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
    E G#m E G#m
    And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
    E G#m E G#m
    As they rode him in custody down to the station
    E G#m E G#m B
    And booked William Zantzinger for first-degree murder.
    A B E G#m A B E
    But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
    A B E C#m7
    Take the rag away from your face.
    A B E
    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 and 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 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 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.
    

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