I feel bad that I have been so oblivious, but today was the first time I've actually payed attention to the lyrics of this song and wow, what an amazing storytelling feat.Â
Just for a little bit of background, on Wikipedia:
"Hurricane" is a protest song by Bob Dylan co-written with Jacques Levy, about the imprisonment of Rubin "Hurricane" Carter. It compiles alleged acts of racism and profiling against Carter,[1] which Dylan describes as leading to a false trial and conviction.Â
Carter and a man named John Artis had been charged with a triple murder during a robbery at the Lafayette Grill in Paterson, New Jersey in 1966. Carter and Artis were found guilty of the murders, which were widely reported as racially motivated. In the years that followed, a substantial amount of controversy emerged over the case, ranging from allegations of faulty evidence and questionable eyewitness testimony to an unfair trial.
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, âMy God, they killed them all!â
Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethinâ that he never done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world
Three bodies lyinâ there does Patty see
And another man named Bello, movinâ around mysteriously
âI didnât do it,â he says, and he throws up his hands
âI was only robbinâ the register, I hope you understand
I saw them leavinâ,â he says, and he stops
âOne of us had better call up the copsâ
And so Patty calls the cops
And they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashinâ
In the hot New Jersey night
Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivinâ 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 thatâs just the way things go
If youâre black you might as well not show up on the street
âLess 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 prowlinâ around
He said, âI saw two men runninâ out, they looked like middleweights
They jumped into a white car with out-of-state platesâ
And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head
Cop said, âWait a minute, boys, this oneâs not deadâ
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 morninâ and they haul Rubin in
Take him to the hospital and they bring him upstairs
The wounded man looks up through his one dyinâ eye
Says, âWhaâd you bring him in here for? He ainât the guy!â
Yes, hereâs the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethinâ 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
Rubinâs in South America, fightinâ for his name
While Arthur Dexter Bradleyâs still in the robbery game
And the cops are puttinâ the screws to him, lookinâ for somebody to blame
âRemember that murder that happened in a bar?â
âRemember you said you saw the getaway car?â
âYou think youâd like to play ball with the law?â
âThink it might-a been that fighter that you saw runninâ that night?â
âDonât forget that you are whiteâ
Arthur Dexter Bradley said, âIâm really not sureâ
Cops said, âA poor boy like you could use a break
We got you for the motel job and weâre talkinâ to your friend Bello
Now you donât wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow
Youâll be doinâ society a favor
That sonofabitch is brave and gettinâ braver
We want to put his ass in stir
We want to pin this triple murder on him
He ainât no Gentleman Jimâ
Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
But he never did like to talk about it all that much
Itâs my work, heâd say, and I do it for pay
And when itâs over Iâd 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 Rubinâs cards were marked in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance
The judge made Rubinâs 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 âone,â 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 foolâs hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldnât 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
Thatâs the story of the Hurricane
But it wonât be over till they clear his name
And give him back the time heâs done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world
http://www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/hurricane#ixzz3VpAsBFAU