bob dylan
mr. bojangles
I knew a man Bojangles and he'd dance for you in worn out shoes Silver hair, a ragged shirt and baggy pants, that old soft shoe He'd jump so high, he'd jump so high, will he likely 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 eye 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 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 and county fairs throughtout the south He spoke with tears of 15 years of how his dog and him just travelled about Hid 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, cause I drinks a bit" He shook his head, yes he shook his head, I heard someone ask him, è¥­lease? Mr Bojangles, Mr Bojangles, dance, dance, Mr Bojangles, dance..