Mr. Bojangles
I knew a man, BojanglesAnd he danced for youIn worn out shoesWith silver hair, a ragged shirtAnd baggy pants, the old soft shoeHe jumped so high, he jumped so highThen he lightly touched down
I met him in a cell in New OrleansI was down and outHe looked at me to be the eyes of ageAs he spoke right outHe talked of life, he talked of lifeHe laughed, and slapped his leg a step
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. BojanglesMr. Bojangles, dance!
He said his name, Bojanglesthen he danced a lick across the cellHe grabbed his pantsa better stanceOh, he jumped up highhe clicked his heelsHe let go a laugh, he let go a laughShook back his clothes all around
He danced for thoseAt minstrel shows and county fairsThroughout the southHe spoke with tears of 15 yearsHow his dog and he traveled aboutHis dog up and died, he up and diedAfter 20 years he still grieves
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. BojanglesMr. Bojangles, dance!
He said I dance nowAt every chance in honky tonksFor drinks and tipsBut most of the timeI spend behind these county barsHe said I drinks a bit
He shook his headAnd as he shook his headI heard someone respectfully askPlease
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. BojanglesMr. Bojangles, dance!