John Denver Follow

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.
Mr. Bojangles, 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 about life, talked about life, he laughed, slapped his leg and steped.
He said his name "Bojangles" then he danced a lick across the cell,
grabbed his pants and took a stance, o he jumped so high, he clicked his heels.
He let go a laugh, let go a laugh, shook his clothes all around.
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He danced for those at minstrel shows & county fairs,
throughout the south.
He spoke in tears of 15 years how his dog and him they traveled about.
The 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 now, shook his head.
And I heard someone ask please:
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