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Hurricane

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Accordi Hurricane

Intro:
      

                          

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 something that he never done

  Put in a prison cell
                   

but one time he could-a been
                      

The champion of the world

Strumentale:
      

                             

  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

Strumentale:
      

                       

  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

Strumentale:
      

                      

  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”

Strumentale:
      

                              

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”

Strumentale:
      

                         

  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

Strumentale:
      

                              

  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

## Credits

Autori: JACQUES LEVY, BOB DYLAN Copyright: © RAM-S-HORN-MUSIC, SONY MUSIC PUBLISHING (ITALY) S.R.L.