In a soldier’s stance, I aimed my hand At the mongrel dogs who teach Fearing not that I’d become my enemy In the instant that I preach - Bob Dylan

Every man's conscience is vile and depraved, you cannot depend on it to be your guide when it's you who must keep it satisfied

We sit here stranded, though we're all doin' our best to deny it.

William Zanzinger, 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.