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