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Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night
Enter Valentine from the upper hall.
She sees the bartender in a of blood,
Cries out, 'My God, they've killed 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 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 with their red lights flashin'
In the hot New night.
Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
Carter and a 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 to the side of the road
Just like the 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 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 like middleweights
jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates.'
And Miss Patty Valentine 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
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
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 you saw the getaway car?'
'You think you'd to play ball with the law?'
'Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin' 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 to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.
You'll be doin' society a favor.
That 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 much.
It's my work, he'd say, and I do it for pay
And when it's over I'd just as go on my way
Up to some paradise
Where the streams flow and the air is nice
And ride a horse along a trail.
But then they took him to the jail house
Where try to turn a man into a mouse.
All of Rubin's cards marked in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance.
The 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 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 was falsely tried.
The crime was murder 'one,' guess who testified?
and Bradley and they baldly lied
And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride.
How can the of such a man
Be in the palm of some fool's hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn't help but make me to live in a land
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.
Enter Valentine from the upper hall.
She sees the bartender in a of blood,
Cries out, 'My God, they've killed 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 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 with their red lights flashin'
In the hot New night.
Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
Carter and a 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 to the side of the road
Just like the 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 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 like middleweights
jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates.'
And Miss Patty Valentine 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
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
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 you saw the getaway car?'
'You think you'd to play ball with the law?'
'Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin' 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 to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.
You'll be doin' society a favor.
That 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 much.
It's my work, he'd say, and I do it for pay
And when it's over I'd just as go on my way
Up to some paradise
Where the streams flow and the air is nice
And ride a horse along a trail.
But then they took him to the jail house
Where try to turn a man into a mouse.
All of Rubin's cards marked in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance.
The 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 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 was falsely tried.
The crime was murder 'one,' guess who testified?
and Bradley and they baldly lied
And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride.
How can the of such a man
Be in the palm of some fool's hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn't help but make me to live in a land
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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( Traducción Automática )
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