Kristofer Aström

Mr. Bojangles

Kristofer Aström


Oh I knew a man, Bojangles and he danced for you 
In worn out shoes 
With 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 

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 of life, he talked of life 
He laughed slapped his leg a step 

Mr Bojangles, Mr Bojangles 
Mr Bojangles dance 

He spoke the name's Bojangles then he danced a lick 
Across the cell 
He grabbed his pants, a better stance 
Oh he jumped so 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 
Throughout the south 
He spoke with tears of fifteen years how his dog and him 
Traveled about 
His dog up and died, His dog 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 please 
Mr Bojangles, Mr Bojangles 
Mr Bojangles oh dance