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, slapped his leg a step He said his name, Bojangles And he danced a lick across the cell He grabbed his pants In fettered stance Oh, he jumped up high Then he clicked his heels He let go a laugh, he let go a laugh 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 with tears of 15 years How his dog and him traveled about His dog up and died, he up and died After 20 years he still grieves He said I dance now At every chance in honky tonks For drink and tips But most of 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, please Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles Mr. Bojangles, dance! --- Mr. Bojangles - Etta Jones