Kaw-liga

Kaw-liga was a wooden Indian standing by the door

He fell in love with an Indian maid over in the antique store

Kaw-liga just stood there and never let it show

So she could never answer, yes or no

He always wore his Sunday feathers and held a tomahawk

The maiden wore her beads and braids and hoped someday he'd talk

Kaw-liga, too stubborn to ever show a sign

Because his heart was made of knotty pine

Poor old kaw-liga, he never got a kiss

Poor old kaw-liga, he don't know what he missed

Is it any wonder that his face is red?

Kaw-liga that poor old wooden head

Kaw-liga was a lonely Indian, never went nowhere

His heart was set on the Indian maid with the coal black hair

Kaw-liga just stood there and never let it show

So she could never answer, yes or no

Poor old kaw-liga, he never got a kiss

Poor old kaw-liga, he don't know what he missed

Is it any wonder that his face is red?

Kaw-liga that poor old wooden head

Then one day a wealthy customer bought the Indian maid

And took her oh so far away but old kaw-liga stayed

Kaw-liga, just stands there as lonely as can be

And wishes he was still an old pine tree

Poor old kaw-liga, he never got a kiss

Poor old kaw-liga, he don't know what he missed

Is it any wonder that his face is red?

Kaw-liga that poor old wooden head

(Kaw-liga)

Kaw-liga

(Kaw-liga)

Kaw-liga

(Kaw-liga)

Kaw-liga