Mr. Bojangles

I knew a man, Bojangles and he'd dance for you

Worn out shoes

With silver hair, a ragged shirt and baggy pants

The old soft shoe

He'd jump so high, he'd jump so high

Then he'd lightly touch down

I met him in a cell in New Orleans, he was

Down and out

He looked to me to be the eyes of age

As he spoke right out

We talked of life, we talked of life

He laughed, slapped his leg a step

He said the name Bojangles then he danced a lick

Across the cell

Grabbed his pants, a better stance, and woo, he jumped up high

Clicked his heels

He let go a laugh, let go a laugh

Shook back his clothes all around

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles, dance

He danced with those at minstrel shows and county fairs

Throughout the South

He spoke with tears of fifteen years of how his dog and him

Had traveled about

His dog up and died, he up and died

After twenty years he still grieves

He said, "I dance now and every chance at honky tonks

For drinks and tips

But most the time, I spend behind these county bars

'Cause I drinks a bit"

He shook his head and as he shook his head

I heard someone ask please

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles, dance