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Hurricane v1 — Bob Dylan (Akkoorden) · Gitaartabs Play
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Probeer voor €1 → Am Am × 2 3 1 Pistol shots ring out in the F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 barroom night
Am Am × 2 3 1 Enter Patty Valentine from the F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 upper hall.
Am Am × 2 3 1 She sees the bartender in a F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 pool of blood,
Am Am × 2 3 1 Cries out, "My God, they F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 killed them all!"
C C × 3 2 1 Here comes the story of the F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 Hurricane,
C C × 3 2 1 The man the authorities F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 came to blame
Dm Dm × × 2 3 1 For somethin' that he never C C × 3 2 1 done.
Dm Dm × × 2 3 1 Put in a prison cell, but C C × 3 2 1 one Em Em 2 3 time he could-a Am Am × 2 3 1 been
The F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 champion of the C C × 3 2 1 world. G G 3 2 4
Am Am × 2 3 1 F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 Am Am × 2 3 1 F F 1 3 4 2 1 1
Am Am × 2 3 1 Three bodies lyin' there does F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 Patty see
Am Am × 2 3 1 And another man named Bello, movin' around F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 mysteriously.
Am Am × 2 3 1 I didn't do it," he says, and he F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 throws up his hands
Am Am × 2 3 1 I was only robbin' the register, I F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 hope you understand.
C C × 3 2 1 I saw them leavin'," he F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 says, and he stops
C C × 3 2 1 One of us had better F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 call up the cops."
Dm Dm × × 2 3 1 And so Patty calls the C C × 3 2 1 cops
Dm Dm × × 2 3 1 And they arrive on the C C × 3 2 1 scene Em Em 2 3 with their red lights Am Am × 2 3 1 flashin'
In the F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 hot New Jersey C C × 3 2 1 night. G G 3 2 4
Am Am × 2 3 1 F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 Am Am × 2 3 1 F F 1 3 4 2 1 1
Am Am × 2 3 1 Meanwhile, far away in another F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 part of town
Am Am × 2 3 1 Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 drivin'around.
Am Am × 2 3 1 Number one contender for the F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 middleweight crown
Am Am × 2 3 1 Had no idea what kinda shit was F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 about to go down
C C × 3 2 1 When a cop pulled him over to the F F 1 3 4 2 1 1 side of the road
C C × 3 2 1
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Songtekst gepubliceerd onder licentie van Stichting FEMU — zie play.gitaartabs.nl/voorwaarden. Auteursrechtelijk beschermd; niet voor verspreiding.
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 like middleweights
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 infir
mary
And though this man could hardly
see
They told him that
he could
identi
fy the guilty
men.
Four in the mornin' and they
haul Rubin in,
Take him to the hospital and they
brouhgt 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, "
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' so
ciety a favor.
That sonofabitch is
brave and gettin' braver.
We want to put his ass in
stir
We want to pin this triple
mur
der 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
(AM)
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
.
. 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 him in a prison cell but
one
time he could-a
been
The
champion of the
world.
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