Bob Dylan
Mr. Bojangles
I knew a man Bojangles and he'd dance for you
In worn out shoes
Silver hair, ragged shirt and baggy pants
That old soft shoe

He'd jump so high, he'd jump so high
Then he'd lightly touch down
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Dance

I met him in a cell in New Orleans
I was down and out
He looked to me to be the eyes of age
As he spoke right out

He talked of life, he talked of life
Laughing slapped his leg stale
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Dance

He said the name Bojangles and he danced a lick
All across the cell
He grabbed his pants for a better stance
Oh, he jumped so high and he clicked up his heels

He let go a laugh, he let go a laugh
Shook back his clothes all around
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Dance, yeah, dance
He danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs
Throughout the south
He spoke with tears of 15 years of how his dog and him
Just traveled all about

His dog up and died, he up and died
And after 20 years he still grieves
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Dance

He said, "I dance now at every chance at honky-tonks
For drinks and tips
But most of the time I spend behind these county bars
Because I drinks a bit"

He shook his head, and he shook his head
I heard someone ask him, "Please
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Dance, dance
Mr. Bojangles, dance"