Mr. Bojangles


I knew a man Bojangles
And he danced for you
In worn out shoes

Silver hair, a ragged shirt
And baggy pants
The old soft shoe.

He jumped so high,
Jumped 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.

He talked of life,
He talked of life
He laughed, slapped his leg instead.

Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles, dance

He said his name, Bojangles
And he danced a lick
Across the cell.

He grabbed his pants,
A better stance
And jumped so high, clicked his heels.

He let go a laugh
Let go a laugh
Shook back his clothes all around.

He danced for those in 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 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
Go on and dance

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