Mr. Bojangles - David Bromberg

I knew a man Bojangles an' he’d dance for you in worn out shoes

Silver hair, ragged shirt an' boggy pants, that old soft shoes

He’d jump so high, he’d jump so high, then he lightly touched down

Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance.

I met him in a cell in New Orleans, i was down an' out

He looked to me to be the eyes of age as he spoke right out

He talked of life, he talked of life laughin' slapped his leg stale

Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance.

He said the name Bojangles an' he danced a lick all across the cell

He grabbed his pants for a better stance, oh he jumped so high an' he clicked

up his heels

He let go laugh, he let go laugh, shook back his clothes all around

Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles dance, yeah dance.

He danced for those at minstrel shows an' county fairs throughout the south

He spoke with tears of fifteen years of how his dog an' him but just travelled

all about

His dog up an' died, he up an' died, an' after twenty years he still grieves

Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance.

He said: «I dance now at every chance at honkytonks for drinks an' tips

But most of the time i spend behind those county bars cause i drink so bit»

He shook his head an' he shook his head, i heard somemone ask him «Please

Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance, dance, Mr. Bojangles dance»