Kaw-Liga

Glad you were the wooden Indian standing by the door He fell in love with an Indian maid over in the antique store Glad you were the wooden Indian standing by the door He fell in love with an Indian maid over in the antique store Kaw-Liga Glad you were the 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 told a soul 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 Kaw-Liga was a lonely Indian, never went nowhere His heart was set on the Indian maiden with the coal-black hair Kaw-Liga Just stood there and never told a soul 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