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I knew a man Bojangles |
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And he danced for you |
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In worn out shoes |
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With silver hair, a ragged shirt |
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And baggy pants, the old soft shoe |
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He jumped so high, |
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He jumped so high, |
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Then he lightly touched down |
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Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, |
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Mr. Bojangles, dance! |
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I met him in a cell in New Orleans, |
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I was down and out |
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He looked to be the eyes of age as spoke right out |
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He talked of life, |
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He talked of life, |
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He laughed, slapped his leg a step |
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He said his name, Bojangles, |
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Then he danced a lick across the cell |
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He grabbed pants of better stants, |
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Then he jumped up high, he clicked his heels |
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He let go a laugh, |
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He let go a laugh, shook back his clothes all around |
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Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, |
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Mr. Bojangles, dance! |
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La-dee da da... |
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Hum-um-um... |
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Dee-dah-dah-dah |
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He danced for those at minstrel shows |
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And county fairs throughout the south |
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He spoke with tears of 15 years |
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How his dog and he traveled about |
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His dog up and died, up and died, |
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After 20 years he still grieved |
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He said I dance now at ev'ry chance |
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In honky tonks for drinks and tips |
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But most of the time |
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I spend behind these county bars |
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He said 'I drinks a bit' |
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He shook his head |
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And as he shook his head |
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I heard someone ask "Please!" |
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"Please!" |
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Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, |
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Mr. Bojangles, dance! |
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La-dee da da... |
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Hum-um-um... |
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Dee-dah-dah-dah |
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Dance! Dance! Dance! |
