I knew a man Bojangles and he'd dance for you in worn out shoes Silver hair and ragged shirt and baggy pants, the old soft shoe He'd jump so high, he'd jump so high, then he'd lightly touched down 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, laughed, clicked his heels and said He said his name Bojangles and he danced a lick 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. 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 travelled about The dog up and died, he up and died. After 20 years he still grieves He said "I dance now at every chance at honky-tonks for drinks and tips But most the time I spends behind these county bars, 'cause your see, I drinks a bit" He shook his head and as he shook his head, I heard someone ask him, "Please" -- "Please" ... Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles -- "Dance"