Kaw-liga was a wooden Indian standing by the door He fell in love with an Indian maiden 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 some day 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.'
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...
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