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I knew a man Bojangles |
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and he'd dance for you |
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in worn out shoes |
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Silver hair,ragged shirt |
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and baggy pants,that old soft shoe |
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He'd jump so high,he'd jump so high |
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then he lightly touched down |
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I met him in a cell in New Orleans |
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so down and out |
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He looked to me to be |
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the eyes of age as he spoke right out |
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He talked of life,he talked of life |
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laughing slapped his leg stale |
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He said the name Bojangles |
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and he danced a lick |
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all across the cell |
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He grabbed his pants for a better stance |
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and he jumped so high |
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he clicked his heels |
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He let go laugh,he let go laugh |
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who shook back his clothes all around |
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Mr.Bojangles,Mr.Bojangles |
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Mr.Bojangles,come on dance. |
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He danced for those at minstrel shows |
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and county fairs throught out the south |
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He spoke with tears of 15years |
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of how his dog and him |
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just travelled all about |
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His dog up and died,he up and died |
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and after 20years he still grieves |
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He said I dance every chance |
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at honky-tonks for drinks and tips |
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But most of the time |
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I spend behind these county bars |
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cause I drink so bit |
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He shook his head |
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yes he shook his head |
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I heard someone ask him,please, |
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Mr.Bojangles,Mr.Bojangles |
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Mr Bojangles,come on dance |
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come on dance |