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