Somente quando assumimos que jamais
poderemos ser livres é que atingimos aqui a liberdade.
*
“Tudo é
importante”
e
“A simplicidade é a chave”
e ainda
"Aqui tudo é coisa"
e ainda
"Aqui tudo é coisa"
*
Hurricane
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.
Bob Dylan
Homenagem a “Hurricane”
062.n cqe
