Tasty Tunes [Songs] - Covers
Hurricane
Lyrics:
Pistols shots ring out in the bar room night
Enter Patty Valentine
from the upper hall
She sees the 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
something that he never done
Put him in a prison cell but one time he
could-a been
The champion of the world.
Three bodies lying
there does Patty see
And another man named Bello moving around
mysteriously
"I didn't do it", he says and he throws up his hands,
"I was only robbing the register. I hope you understand.
"I saw
them leaving," 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 flashing
In the hot New Jersey night.
Meanwhile far away in another part of town
Rubin Carter and a
couple of friends are driving 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 Patterson 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
prowling around
He said, "I saw two men running 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 infirmary
And though this man could hardly see
They told him
he could identify the guilty men.
Four in the morning and they
haul Rubin in
They took him to the hospital and they brought him
upstairs
The wounded man looks up through his one dying eye
Says,
"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
something 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 fighting for his name
While Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game
And the cops
are putting the screws to him looking for somebody to blame
"Remember that murder that you 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 running that
night?
Don't forget that you are white".
Arthur Dexter Bradley
said, "I'm really not sure."
The cop said, "A boy like you could use
a break.
We got you for the motel job and we're talking to your
friend Bello.
Now you don't wanna have to go back to jail, be a nice
fellow.
You'll be doing society a favor.
That son of a bitch
is brave and getting 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 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 DA 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
could-a been
The champion of the world.
Notes: