Hurricane Bob Dylan
[Em]Pistol shots ring out in the [C]barroom night.
[Em]Enter Patty Valentine from the [C]Eberhard.
[Em]She sees a bartender in a [C]pool of blood,
[Em]cries out, "My God, they've [C]killed 'em all"
[G]Here comes the story [D]of the [C]Hurricane,[D]
[G]the man the authori[D]ties [C]came to blame
[Am]for something that he'd never [Em]done.
[Am]Put in a prison cell, but [G]one [D/F#]time
he could'a [Em]been the [C]champion of the [G]world[D]
Three bodies lying there does Patty see
and another man named Bellow movin' around mysteriously.
"I didn't do it" he says and he throws up his hands
"I was only robbing the register, I hope you understand"
"I saw them leaving," he says and he stops.
"One of us had better call up the cops."
And so Patty calls the cops and they arrive on the scene
with their red lights flashing in the hot New Jersey night.
Meanwhile, far away in another part of town,
Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are driving around,
the number one contender for the middleweight crown
and no idea what kind of shit was about to go down,
when a cop pulled him over to the side of the road,
just the the time before and the time before that.
In Patterson, that's just the way things go:
if you're black you might as well not show up on the street
unless you want to draw the heat.
Alfred Bellow and a partner had a rap for the cops.
Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowling around.
He said, "I saw two men run out looked like middleweights,
jumped into a car with out of state plates",
and Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head.
The cops said "Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead."
So they took him to the infirmary
and though this man could hardly see
they told him he could identify the guilty man.
Four in the morning and they haul Rubin in,
they took him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs.
The wounded man looks up through his one dyin' eye
said, "What'd you bring him in here for, he ain't the guy."
Here's the story of the Hurricane
the man the authorities came to blame
for something he'd never done
put him in a prison cell but one time
he could'a been the champion of the world
Four months later, the gettos are in flames.
Rubin's in South America fighting for his fame.
Well, Arthur Dexter Bradly's still in the robbery game
and the cops are putting the screws to him lookin' for somebody to blame
"Remember that murder that you happened on in a bar?
Remember you said you saw the getaway car?
Think you'd like to play ball with the law?
Think it might have been that fighter that you saw running that night?
Don't forget that you are white."
Arthur Dexter Bradly said, "I'm really not sure."
The cops said, "A poor boy like you could use a break.
We got you for the motel job and you talking to your friend Bellow.
You don't what to have to go back to jail. Be a nice fellow.
You'll be doing society a favor.
That son of a bitch is brave and getting braver.
We want to put his ass in stir.
We want to pin this triple murder on him.
He ain't no Gentleman Jim."
Rubin could take a man out with just one punch.
But he never did like to talk about it all that much.
"It's my work," he'd say, "I do it for pay.
When it's all over, I'd just as soon go on my way.
Up top some Paradise.
Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice
an ride a horse along the trail."
But then they took him to the jail house
where they try to turn a man into a mouse.
All of Rubin's cards were marked in advance.
His trial was pig circus, he never had a chance.
The judge made Rubin's witnesses, drunken smokin' slums,
To the white folks who watched, he was just a revolutionary bum.
And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger.
No one doubted that he pulled the trigger.
And though they could not produce the gun
the DA said he was the one who did the deed
and the all white jury agreed.
Rubin Carter was falsely tried.
The crime was murder one, and guess who testified.
Bellow and Bradley and they both bawled, "They lied!"
The newspaper, they all went along for the ride.
How can the life of such a man
be in the palm of some fool's hand?
To see him obviously framed
couldn't help but make me feel ashamed
to live in a land where justice is a game.
No all the criminals in their coats and their ties
are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise,
while Rubin sits like Buddah in a ten-foot cell
an innocent man in a living Hell.
Yes, that's the story of the Hurricane
but it won't be over till they clear his name
and give him back the time he's done.
Put him in a prison cell but one time
he could'a been the champion of the world.
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enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall