गाने

Kaw-Liga was a wooden Indian standin' by the door He fell in love with an Indian maiden over in the antique store Kaw-Liga too stubborn to ever 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 knoty pine. Poor ol' Kaw-Liga he never got a kiss Poor ol' Kaw-Liga he don't know what he missed Is there any wonder that his face is red Kaw-Liga that poor ol' wooden head. --- Instrumental --- 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 let it show 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 too stubborn to ever show a sign Because his heart was made of knoty pine. Poor ol' Kaw-Liga he never got a kiss Poor ol' Kaw-Liga he don't know what he missed Is there any wonder that his face is red Kaw-Liga that poor ol' wooden head...
Writer(s): Fred Rose, Hank Williams Sr. Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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