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 knoty pine.



Poor ol' Kaw-Liga

He never got a kiss

Poor ol' Kaw-Liga

He don't know what he missed.



Is it any wonder

That his face is red

Kaw-Liga

That poor ol' 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.



And then one day a wealthy customer

Bought the Indian maid

And took her, oh, so far away

But ol' Kaw-Liga stayed.



Kaw-Liga just stands there

As lonely as can be

And wishes he was still

An old pine tree.



Poor ol' Kaw-Liga

He never got a kiss

Poor ol' Kaw-Liga

He don't know what he missed.



Is it any wonder

That his face is red

Kaw-Liga

That poor ol' wooden head.



Kaw-Liga that poor ol' wooden head...