Mr. Bojangles
I knew a man Bojangles and he'd dance for youIn worn out shoesWith silver hair, a ragged shirt, and baggy pantsThe old soft shoeHe jumped so high, jumped so highThen he lightly touched down
I met him in a cell in New Orleans I was down and outHe looked to me to be the eyes of ageas he spoke right outHe talked of life, talked of life, he laughed clicked his heels and stepped
He said his name "Bojangles" and he danced a lick across the cellHe grabbed his pants and spread his stance,Oh he jumped so high and then he clicked his heelsHe let go a laugh, let go a laughand shook back his clothes all around
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. BojanglesMr. Bojangles, dance
He danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs throughout the southHe spoke through tears of 15 years how his dog and him traveled aboutThe dog up and died, he up and diedAnd after 20 years he still grieves
He said I dance now at every chance in honky tonks for drinks and tipsBut most the time I spend behind these county bars 'cause I drinks a bitHe shook his head, and as he shook his headI heard someone ask him please
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. BojanglesMr. Bojangles, dance.