Kaw Liga

Kaw-Liga was a wooden Indian, standin' by the door He fell in love with an indian maid, over in the antique store Kaw-Liga, ooh 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, ooh Too stubborn to ever show a sign Because his heart is made of knotty 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 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, ooh Just stood there and never let it show So she could never answer yes or no 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 old wooden head Then one day, a wealthy customer bought the Indian maid And took her, oh-so far away, but ol' Kaw-Liga stayed Kaw-Liga, ooh Just stands there, as lonely as can be And wishes he were still an ol' 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, you poor ol' wooden head (Kaw-Liga) Kaw-Liga (Kaw-Liga) Kaw-Liga (Kaw-Liga) Kaw-Liga