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 shoes
He jumped so high
Jumped so high
Then he'd lightly touch 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
Talked of life
Laugh and slap his legs instead
Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles
Dance
He said his name's Bojangles, then he danced a lick
Across the cell
He grabbed his pants, a better stance
Oh how he jumped up high
He clicked his heels
He let go a laugh
Let go a laugh
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
Oh how his dog and he
Travelled about
He dog up and died
Dog up and died
After fifteen years he still grieved
Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles
Dance
He said, "I dance in every chance and honky tonk
For drinks and tips
But most of the time I spend behind these country bars"
He said, "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
Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles
Dance
