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 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
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 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"
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 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