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Mr. Bojangles
by
Steve Earle
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I knew a man, "Bojangles" and he'd dance for you In worn-out shoes Silver hair, a ragged shirt, and baggy pants The old Soft Shoe He jumped so high He jumped so high And lightly touch down I met him in a cell in New Orleans I was Down and out He looked to me to be the very eyes of age And he spoke right out He talked of life He talked of life Laugh-slapped his leg in step He said the name, "Bojangles", and he danced a lick Across the cell He grabbed his pants, a better stance, and he jumped so high And then he clicked his heels He let go a laugh Let go a laugh Shook his clothes back all around Mr. Bojangles Mr. Bojangles Mr. Bojangles Dance He's danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs Throughout the South He spoke with tears of fifteen years how his dog and him They traveled about His dog up and died All up and died After twenty years he still grieves He said, "I dance now at every chance in honky-tonks "For drinks and tips "But most of the time I spend behind these county bars "'Cause I drinks a bit" He shook his head As he shook his head I heard someone ask, "Please, please? "Mr. Bojangles "Mr. Bojangles "Mr. Bojangles "Dance" Dance
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