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David Bromberg
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Mr. Bojangles
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
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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'
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