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    Pistol shots ring out in the ballroom night
    Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall.
    She sees the bartender in a pool of blood,
    Cries out, "My God, they've 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 leavin'," 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
    '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' around
    He said, "I saw two men runnin' out,
    they looked likemiddleweights
    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 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' eye
    Says, "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 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."
    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
    Now 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 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 jail house
    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 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 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 living hell.
    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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    Todas as letras de Bob Dylan

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    É permitida somente a visualização no site das letras de músicas encontradas aqui, vedada sua reprodução através de quaisquer outros meios (Lei 9610/98).Todas as letras de músicas são propriedade dos seus respectivos autores e divulgadas somente para fins educacionais.All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics are provided for educational purposes only.