Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
| 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 jumped so high |
| He 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 at me to be the eyes of age, as he |
| spoke right out |
| He talked of life |
| He talked of life |
| He laughed and slapped his leg a step |
|
| He said his name Bojangles and he danced a lick |
| across the cell |
| He grabbed his pants a better stance |
| oh he jumped up high |
| He clicked his heels |
| He let go a laugh, |
| he let go a laugh |
| Shook back his clothes all around |
| He danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs |
| Across the South |
| He spoke with tears of fifteen years how his dog and he |
| had traveled about |
| His dog up and died |
| Up and died |
| Twenty years and he still grieves |
| He said "I dance now at every chance in honkytonks |
| For drinks and tips |
| But most of the time I spends 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. ..." |
|