He did bite off more than he could chew He died because the Golden Rule gave him no choice not because of 2000 years of mankinds sins All cultures and religions have examples of the Golden Rule If all nations followed the Golden Rule, we'd have no wars It wasn't about our sins 2000 after Jesus, that's part of why we still haven't seen peace Too many folk think they can sin all they want and still be forgiven if they make a cross gesture and promise their soul to something they don't understand or go to confession and hail Mary their evil deeds away
How the hell do you even become this good, it's like we have Jesus living amongst us, he pulls words out of the supernatural, then there are people that say this world isn't worth it, they haven't listened to Bob.
I was blown away the first time I heard this gem of a song in the middle of the night on some radio station when I was just getting into Dylan all those years ago. Love the poetry.
Dedicated to Kris Kristofferson! He was a music genius and couldn’t wait to share his talent with those around him. Last time I seen him he was really deep into his Alzheimers and it makes me sad we haven’t solved that problem because I lost my own mother to the same insidious disease. Rest in peace my friend. Thank you for sharing music with the world. 😢
I bought this a single when it came out when I was 12. Ridiculously, 'son of a bitch' and 'ass in stir' were beeped out. But, preposterously, what gets me now is how much this reminds me of 'Moonlighting' by Leo Sayer, which came out several months earlier.
The criminal justice system is a pig circus 🎪 and an absolute joke most of the time . Wish people could just be kind and just abide by at least the first commandment. ✌ ❤ 🤝
This is the first ever Bob Dylan song that I really listened to, for some reason I "discovered" him from the Traveling Wilburys, who I was obsessed with at the time, and I just listened to it over and over again, my favorite line is "But we'll shout from the bow your days are numberrred"
Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall She sees a bartender in a pool of blood Cries out, "my God, they 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 coulda 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 a 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 want to 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 like middleweights 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 he could identify the guilty men Four in the mornin' and they haul Rubin in They took him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs The wounded man looks up through his one dyin' eye Say "Why'd you bring him in here for? He ain't the guy" 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 coulda 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 mighta 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" The cops said "A poor boy like you, could use this break We got you for the motel job and we're talkin' to your friend Bello You don't want to have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow You'll be doin' society a favor That son of a bitch 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 jailhouse 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 for 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 Yes, that's the story of the Hurricane But it won't be over 'til they clear his name And give him back the time he's done Put in a prison cell, but one time he coulda been The champion of the world Source: LyricFind Songwriters: Bob Dylan / Jacques Levy
