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Hurricane

Bob Dylan

Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night
Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall
She sees the bartender in a pool of blood
Cries out: My God, they killed them all!

Here comes the story of the hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world

Three bodies lyin' there does Patty see
And another man named Bello, movin' around mysteriously
I didn’t do it, he says, and he throws up his hands
I was only robbin' 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 flashin' in the hot New Jersey night

Meanwhile, far away, in another part of town
Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin' around
Number one contender for the middleweight crown
Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down
When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
Just like the time before and the time before that
In Paterson, 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 Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops
Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowlin' around
He said: I saw two men runnin' out, they looked like middleweights
They jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates
And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head
Cop 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 men

Four in the mornin' and they haul Rubin in
They take him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs
The wounded man looks up through his one dyin' eye
Say: Why did 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 somethin' that he never done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world

Four months later, the ghettos are in flame
Rubin's in South America fightin' for his name
While Arthur Dexter Bradley’s still in the robbery game
And the cops are puttin' the screws to him, lookin' for somebody to blame
Remember that murder that happened in a bar?
Remember you said you saw the getaway car?
You think you'd like to play ball with the law?
Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin' that night?
Don’t forget that you are white

Arthur Dexter Bradley 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 we're talkin' to your friend Bello
And you don't want to have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow
You'll be doin' society a favor
That son of a bitch is brave and gettin' 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, and I do it for pay
And when it's over, I'd just as soon go on my way
Up to some paradise
Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice
And ride a horse along a trail
But then they took him to the jailhouse
Where they try to turn a man into a mouse

All of Rubin's cards were marked in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance
The judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums
To the white folks who watched, he was a revolutionary bum
And to the black folks, he was just a crazy nigga
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, guess who testified?
Bello and Bradley, and they both baldly lied
And the newspapers, 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

Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink Martinis and watch the Sun rise
While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a livin' 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 in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world

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