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, jumped so high, then he lightly touched down

I met him in a cell in New Orleans, I was
so 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, clicked heels instead

Mister Bojangles
Mister Bojangles
Mister Bojangles,
dance!

He danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs
throughout the South
He spoke with tears of fifteen years how his dog and he
traveled about
His dog up and died, dog up and died, after twentyyears he still grieved

He said, I dance now at every chance in honky tonks
for drinks and tips
But most of the time I spend behind these county bars
He said, I drink a bit
He shook his head and as he shook his head I heard someone ask, please

Mister Bojangles
Mister Bojangles
Mister Bojangles,
dance!

- Jerry Jeff Walker