Karaoké Mr. Bojangles John Holt

I knew a man Bojangles and he danced for you in worn out shoes

With silver hair a ragged shirt and baggy pants

The old soft shoes

He jumped so high

Jumped so high then he lightly touched 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

Talked of life

Laughed and slapped his legs instead

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles dance

He said his name Bojangles and he danced a lick across the cell

He grabbed his pants

A better stance

Oh how he jumped so high

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 and county fairs throughout the south

He spoke with tears of fifteen years of how his dog and he travelled about

His dog up and died

Dog up and died

After fifteen years he still grieved

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles dance

He said I dance in every chance at honky-tonks for drinks and tips

But most of the time I spend behind these county bars

He said I drinks a bit

He shook his head and as he shook his head

I heard someone ask

Please

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles dance

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles

Mr. Bojangles dance