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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'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 he could-a been
The champion of the world.
Three bodies lyin' there does 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 you understand.
I saw leavin',' he says, and he stops
'One of us had better call up the cops.'
And so Patty 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 the way things go.
If you're black you might as well not show up on the street
'Less you draw the heat.
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 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 him that he could the guilty men.
Four in the mornin' and they haul Rubin in,
Take him to the hospital and they 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 to him, lookin' for somebody to blame.
'Remember that 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 not sure.'
Cops said, 'A poor boy like you use a break
We got you for the motel job and we're talkin' to friend Bello
Now you don't wanta have to go 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 to pin this triple murder on him
He ain't no Gentleman Jim.'
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 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 were in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance.
The judge made Rubin's drunkards from the slums
To the white folks who watched he was a bum
And to the black folks he was a crazy nigger.
No one 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 was murder 'one,' who testified?
Bello and Bradley and they 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 is a game.
Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and 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 the he's done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.
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 he could-a been
The champion of the world.
Three bodies lyin' there does 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 you understand.
I saw leavin',' he says, and he stops
'One of us had better call up the cops.'
And so Patty 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 the way things go.
If you're black you might as well not show up on the street
'Less you draw the heat.
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 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 him that he could the guilty men.
Four in the mornin' and they haul Rubin in,
Take him to the hospital and they 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 to him, lookin' for somebody to blame.
'Remember that 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 not sure.'
Cops said, 'A poor boy like you use a break
We got you for the motel job and we're talkin' to friend Bello
Now you don't wanta have to go 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 to pin this triple murder on him
He ain't no Gentleman Jim.'
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 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 were in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance.
The judge made Rubin's drunkards from the slums
To the white folks who watched he was a bum
And to the black folks he was a crazy nigger.
No one 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 was murder 'one,' who testified?
Bello and Bradley and they 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 is a game.
Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and 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 the he's done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.
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