Hurricane (Furacão) retratada a vida/saga de mais uma
vítima de Ações/Decisões/Sentenças Condenatórias/Erro
neamente Prolatadas transformando-se em mais um Erros
Judiciários nos USA! RUBIN CARTER pelo ator, cantor,
compositor, diretor, poeta e produtor BOB DYLAN.
Pistol shots ring out in the ballroom 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 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 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
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
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 looked likemiddleweights
They jumped into 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 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
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"
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"
Rubin 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 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 jail house
Where they try to turn a man into a mouse
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
Rubin Carter was falsely tried
The crime was murder "one," 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 fool's hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn't 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
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;
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 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 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
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
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 looked likemiddleweights
They jumped into 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 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
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"
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"
Rubin 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 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 jail house
Where they try to turn a man into a mouse
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
Rubin Carter was falsely tried
The crime was murder "one," 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 fool's hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn't 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
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;
Hurricane (Furacão) retratada a vida/saga de mais uma vítima de Ações/Decisões/Sentenças Condenatórias/
Erroneamente Prolatadas transformando-se em mais uma vítima de
Furacão
Tiros
de revólver ressoam na noite dentro do bar
Entra
Patty Valentine vinda do salão superior
Ela
vê o Garçon numa poça de sangue
Solta
um grito "meu Deus, mataram todos eles!"
Aí
vem a história do furacão
O
homem que as autoridades acabaram culpando
Por
algo que ele nunca fez
Colocando
numa cela de prisão, mas houve um tempo
Em
que podia ter sido o campeão mundial
Três
corpos deitados ali é o que Patty vê
E
outro homem chamado Bello rodeando misteriosamente
"Eu
não fiz isso" ele diz e joga os braços pra cima
"Estava
só roubando a registradora, espero que você entenda.
"Eu
os vi partindo" ele diz e pára
"É
melhor um de nós ligar pros tiras"
E
assim Patty chama os tiras
E
eles chegam na cena com suas luzes vermelhas piscando
Na
noite quente de New Jersey
Enquanto
isso, bem longe, em outra parte da cidade
Rubin
Carter e uns dois amigos estão dando algumas voltas de carro
O
pretendente número um à coroa dos pesos-médios
Não
tinha idéia do tipo de merda que estava para baixar
Quando
um tira o fez parar no acostamento
Igualzinho
à vez anterior e à outra vez antes dessa
Em
Patterson é assim mesmo que as coisas rolam
Se
você é negro, melhor nem aparecer na rua
A
não ser que queira atrair uma batida policial
Alfred
Bello tinha um parceiro e ele soltou um papo atrás dos tiras
Ele
e Arthur Dexter Bradley estavam só fazendo uma ronda
Ele
disse "vi dois homens saírem correndo, pareciam pesos-médios
Pularam
dentro de um carro branco com a placa de outro estado"
E a
senhorita Patty Valentine apenas assentiu com a cabeça
Um
tira disse: "esperem um minuto, rapazes, este aqui não está morto"
Então
o levaram à enfermaria
E
embora esse homem mal pudesse enxergar
Disseram
a ele que podia identificar os culpados
As
4 da manhã eles arrastam Rubin consigo
O
levam para o hospital e o trazem escada acima
O
homem ferido olha pra cima através de seu único olho moribundo
Diz,
" por que vocês o trouxeram aqui dentro? Não é esse o cara!"
Sim,
eis aqui a história do furacão
O
homem que as autoridades acabaram culpando
Por
algo que ele nunca fez
Colocando
numa cela de prisão, mas houve um tempo
Em
que podia ter sido o campeão mundial
Quatro
meses depois, os guetos estão em chamas,
Rubin
está na América do Sul, lutando por seu nome
Enquanto
Arthur Dexter Bradley continua no ramo do assalto
E
os tiras estão apertando-o, procurando alguém pra culpar.
"Lembra
daquele assassinato que aconteceu num bar?"
"Lembra
que você disse ter visto o carro fugitivo?"
"Você
acha que está a fim de brincar com a lei?"
"Não
acha que talvez tenha sido aquele lutador que você viu correndo pela
noite?"
"Não
se esqueça de que você é branco"
Arthur
Dexter Bradley disse: "não tenho muita certeza."
Os
tiras disseram: "um rapaz como você precisa de uma folga da polícia
Te
pegamos por aquele serviço no motel e agora estamos conversando com seu amigo
Bello
Agora,
você não quer ter de voltar pra cadeia, seja um sujeito legal.
Você
estará fazendo um favor a sociedade.
Aquele
filho-da-puta é valente e está ficando cada vez mais.
Nós
queremos botar o rabo dele pra fritar
Queremos
pregar esse triplo assassinato nele
O
cara não é nenhum cavalheiro"
Rubin
podia apenas nocautear um cara com apenas um soco
Mas
nunca gostou muito de falar sobre isso
"É
meu trabalho", diria, "e eu o faço para ser pago
E
quando isso termina, prefiro cair fora o mais rápido possível
Na
direção de algum paraíso
Onde
riachos de trutas correm e o ar é ótimo
E
andar a cavalo ao longo de uma trilha"
Mas
aí o levaram para a cadeia
Onde
tentaram transformar um homem num rato
Todas
as cartas de Rubin já estavam marcadas
O
julgamento foi um circo de porcos, ele não teve a menor chance
O
juiz fez das testemunhas de Rubin bêbados das favelas
E
para os brancos que assistiam, ele era um vagabundo revolucionário
E
para os negros, apenas mais um crioulo maluco
Ninguém
duvidava que ele tinha apertado o gatilho
E
embora não conseguissem produzir a arma
O
promotor público disse que era ele o responsável
E o
Juri, todos de brancos, concordou
Rubin
Carter foi falsamente julgado
O
crime foi de assassinato "em primeiro grau" adivinha quem
testemunhou?
Bello
e Bradley e ambos mentiram descaradamente
E
os jornais, todos pegaram uma carona nessa onda
Como
pode a vida de um homem desses
Ficar
na palma da mão de algum tolo?
Vê-lo
obviamente condenado numa armação
Não
teve outro jeito a não ser me fazer sentir vergonha
De
morar numa terra onde a justiça é um jogo
Agora
todos os criminosos em seus paletós e gravatas
Estão
livres para beber Martinis e assitir ao sol nascer
Enquanto
Rubin fica sentado como Buda em uma cela de 3 metros
Um
inocente num inferno vivo
Essa
é a história do furacão
Mas
não terá terminado enquanto não limparem seu nome
E
devolverem a ele o tempo que serviu
Colocado
numa cela de prisão, mas houve um tempo
Em que podia ter sido o campeão mundial
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