Mr. Bojangles

I knew a man Bojangles and he'd dance for you
In worn out shoes
With silver hair, a ragged shirt, and baggy pants
The old soft shoe
He jumped so high, jumped so high
Then he lightly touched down.

I met him in a cell in New Orleans I was down and out
He looked to me to be the eyes of age
as he spoke right out
He 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 cell
He grabbed his pants and spread his stance
Oh he jumped so high and then he clicked his heels
He let go a laugh, let go a laugh
And shook back his clothes all around.

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

He danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs throughout the south
He spoke through tears of 15 years how his dog and him traveled about
The dog up and died, he up and died
And after 20 years he still grieves.

He said I dance now at every chance in 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 him please.

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