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