A música Hurricane foi escrita por Bob Dylan e Jacques Levy, dedicada ao boxeador Rubin Hurricane Carter, que foi condenado por assassinato em 1966. A letra protesta contra a prisão de Carter, apontando o racismo e a falha do sistema judiciário americano. Dylan foi inspirado a escrever a música após ler a autobiografia de Carter, The Sixteenth Round, e o encontrou na prisão antes de escrever Hurricane. A música ajudou a trazer atenção pública ao ... Ver mais [+] caso de Carter, que eventualmente foi liberado da prisão em 1985, após duas condenações serem anuladas.
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Introdução:
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x4
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Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night
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Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall
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She sees the bartender in a pool of blood
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Cries out "My God they killed them all!"
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Here comes the story of the Hurricane
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The man the authorities came to blame
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For something that he never done
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Put in a prison cell but one time
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He could have been the champion of the world
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Three bodies lyin’ there does Patty see
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And another man named Bello, movin’ around mysteriously
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“I didn’t do it,” he says, and he throws up his hands
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“I was only robbin’ the register, I hope you understand
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I saw them leavin’,” he says, and he stops
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“One of us had better call up the cops”
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And so Patty calls the cops
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And they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashin’
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In the hot New Jersey night
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Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
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Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin’ around
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Number one contender for the middleweight crown
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Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down
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When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
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Just like the time before and the time before that
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In Paterson that’s just the way things go
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If you’re black you might as well not show up on the street
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’Less you wanna draw the heat
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Alfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops
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Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowlin’ around
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He said, “I saw two men runnin’ out, they looked like middleweights
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Jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates”
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And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head
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Cop said, “Wait a minute, boys, this one’s not dead”
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So they took him to the infirmary
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And though this man could hardly see
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They told him he could identify the guilty men
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Four in the mornin’ and they haul Rubin in
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They took him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs
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The wounded man looks up through his one dyin’ eye
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"Say, why’d you bring him in here for? He ain’t the guy!”
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Yes, here’s the story of the Hurricane
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The man the authorities came to blame
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For somethin’ that he never done
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Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
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The champion of the world
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Four months later, the ghettos are in flame
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Rubin’s in South America fightin’ for his name
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While Arthur Dexter Bradley’s still in the robbery game
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And the cops are puttin’ the screws to him lookin’ for somebody to blame
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“Remember that murder that happened in a bar?
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Remember you said you saw the getaway car?
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You think you’d like to play ball with the law?
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Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin’ that night?
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Don’t forget that you are white.”
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Arthur Dexter Bradley said, “I’m really not sure”
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The cop said, “A poor boy like you could use a break
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We got you for the motel job and we’re talkin’ to your friend Bello
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You don’t wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow
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You’ll be doin’ society a favor
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That sonofabitch is brave and gettin’ braver
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We want to put his ass in stir
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We want to pin this triple murder on him
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He ain’t no Gentleman Jim”
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Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
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But he never did like to talk about it all that much
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It’s my work, he’d say, I do it for pay
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And when it’s over I’d just as soon go on my way
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Up to some paradise
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Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice
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And ride a horse along a trail
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But then they took him to the jailhouse
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Where they try to turn a man into a mouse
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All of Rubin’s cards were marked in advance
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The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance
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The judge made Rubin’s witnesses drunkards from the slums
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To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum
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And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger
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No one doubted that he pulled the trigger
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And though they could not produce the gun
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The D.A. said he was the one who did the deed
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And the all-white jury agreed
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Rubin Carter was falsely tried
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The crime was murder “one.” Guess who testified?
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Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
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And the papers, they all went along for the ride
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How can the life of such a man
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Be in the palm of some fool’s hand?
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To see him obviously framed
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Couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land
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Where justice is a game
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Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
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Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
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While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
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An innocent man in a living hell
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Yes, that’s the story of the Hurricane
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But it won’t be over till they clear his name
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And give him back the time he’s done
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Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been