knew a man
bojangles
and he danced for you in worn out shoes. silver hair
ragged shirt and baggy pants
the old soft shoe. he jumped so high
he jumped so high
then he'd lightly touch down. mr. bojangles
mr. bojangles
mr. bojangles
dance. met him in a cell
in new orleans it 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 and stared. he said his name
bojangles
and he danced a lick across the cell. he grabbed his pants and took a stance and he jumped so high
he clicked his heels. he let go a laugh
he let go a laugh
shook 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 in tears of 15 years how his dog and him
they traveled about. the dog up and died
he up and died. after 20 years he still grieves. he said
i dance now at every chance and 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 now
he shook his head and i heard someone ask please
mr. bojangles
mr. bojangles
hey
mr. bojangles
dance.