Текст песни Bob Dylan - Hurricane, слова песни Bob Dylan

Текст песни Bob Dylan - Hurricane

Bob Dylan - Hurricane слова песни

Pistol shots ring out in the barroom nightEnter 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 blameFor somethin` that he never done.Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a beenThe champion of the world.Three bodies lyin` there does Patty seeAnd 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 leavin`," he says, and he stops"One of us had better call up the cops."And so Patty calls the copsAnd they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashin`In the hot New Jersey night.Meanwhile, far away in another part of townRubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin` around.Number one contender for the middleweight crownHad no idea what kinda shit was about to go downWhen a cop pulled him over to the side of the roadJust 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`Less you wanna 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` aroundHe said, "I saw two men runnin` out, they looked like middleweightsThey 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 infirmaryAnd though this man could hardly seeThey told him that he could identify the guilty men.Four in the mornin` and they haul Rubin in,Take him to the hospital and they bring him upstairs.The wounded man looks up through his one dyin` eyeSays, "Wha`d you bring him in here for? He ain`t the guy!"Yes, here`s the story of the Hurricane,The man the authorities came to blameFor somethin` that he never done.Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a beenThe champion of the world.Four months later, the ghettos are in flame,Rubin`s in South America, fightin` for his nameWhile Arthur Dexter Bradley`s still in the robbery gameAnd 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."Cops said, "A poor boy like you could use a breakWe got you for the motel job and we`re talkin` to your friend BelloNow you don`t wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.You`ll be doin` society a favor.That sonofabitch is brave and gettin` braver.We want to put his ass in stirWe want to pin this triple murder on himHe ain`t no Gentleman Jim."Rubin could take a man out with just one punchBut he never did like to talk about it all that much.It`s my work, he`d say, and I do it for payAnd when it`s over I`d just as soon go on my wayUp to some paradiseWhere the trout streams flow and the air is niceAnd ride a horse along a trail.But then they took him to the jailhouseWhere they try to turn a man into a mouse.All of Rubin`s cards were marked in advanceThe trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance.The judge made Rubin`s witnesses drunkards from the slumsTo the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bumAnd 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 D.A. said he was the one who did the deedAnd 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 liedAnd the newspapers, they all went along for the ride.How can the life of such a manBe in the palm of some fool`s hand?To see him obviously framedCouldn`t help but make me feel ashamed to live in a landWhere justice is a game.Now all the criminals in their coats and their tiesAre free to drink martinis and watch the sun riseWhile Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cellAn innocent man in a living hell.That`s the story of the Hurricane,But it won`t be over till they clear his nameAnd give him back the time he`s done.Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a beenThe champion of the world.

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Bob Dylan

Hurricane

Текст песни Bob Dylan - Hurricane

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