MR. BOJANGLES

I knew a man Bojangles and he danced for you
In worn out shoes
With silver hair, a ragged shirt and baggy pants
The Old Soft Shoe
He jumped so high, he jumped so high
Then he lightly touched down

I met him in a cell in New Orleans I was
Down and out
He looked at me to be the eyes of age
As he spoke right out
He talked of life
He talked of life
He laughed and slapped his leg a step

Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance

He said his name, Bojangles and he danced a lick
Across the cell
He grabbed his pants in fettered stance
Oh, how he jumped up high
Then he clicked his heels
He let go a laugh
He let go a laugh
He stood up and shook back his clothes all around

He danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs
Throughout the South
He spoke with tears of fifteen years
How his dog and he traveled about
His dog up and died
He up and died
After twenty years he still grieves

Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance

He said: "I dance now at every chance in Honky Tonks
For drinks and tips
But most of the time
I spend behind these County bars
He said "Because I drinks a bit"

He shook his head
And as he shook his head
I heard someone respectfully asked: "Please"

Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance