Ben Vereen

Mr. Bojangles
I knew a man Bojangles and he'd dance for you in worn out shoesSilver hair, ragged shirt and baggy pants, that old soft shoeHe'd jump so high, he'd jump so high, then he lightly touched downMr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance.I met him in a cell in New Orleans, I was down and outHe looked to me to be the eyes of age as he spoke right outHe talked of life, he talked of life, laughing slapped his leg staleMr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance.He said the name Bojangles and he danced a lick all across the cellHe grabbed his pants for a better stance, oh he jumped so high and he clickedup his heelsHe let go laugh, he let go laugh, shook back his clothes all aroundMr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance, yeah, dance.He danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs throughout the southHe spoke with tears of 15 years of how his dog and him but just travelled all aboutHis dog up and died, he up and died, and after 20 years he still grievesMr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance.He said I dance now at every chance at honky-tonks for drinks and tipsBut most of the time I spend behind these county bars, cause I drink so bitHe shook his head, yes he shook his head, I heard someone ask him, please,Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles, dance, dance, Mr Bojangles, dance. From Letras Mania