Jerry Jeff Walker
I knew a man Bojangles and he'd dance 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'd lightly touch down.
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, talked of life, he laughed, slapped his leg a step.
Mr. Bojangles, dance.
He said his name "Bojangles" then he danced a lick
Across the cell.
He grabbed his pants for a better stance, then he jumped so high,
And he clicked his heels.
He let go a laugh, let go a laugh, shook back his clothes all around
He danced for those at minstrel shows & county fairs
Throughout the south.
He spoke with tears of 15 years how his dog and him
His dog up and died, he up and died, after 20 years he still grieves.
He said I dance now at every chance in honky tonks
For drinks and tips
But most the time I spend behind these county bars
'Cause I drinks a bit.
He shook his head, and as he shook his head I heard someone ask him please