poor ol' kaw-liga, you ain't never got a kiss
poor ol' kaw-liga, you don't know what you miss
is it any wonder, that his face is red?
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
kaw-liga was a wooden indian
standing over 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
too stubborn to ever show a sign
because his heart is made of knotty pine
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 injun maid
and took her, oh, so far away
but old kaw-liga stayed
standin' there, as lonesome as can be
just wishing he were still an old pine tree
poor ol' kaw-liga, you ain't never got a kiss
poor ol' kaw-liga, you don't know what you miss
is it any wonder, that his face is red?
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
poor ol' kaw-liga, you ain't never got a kiss
poor ol' kaw-liga, you don't know what you miss
is it any wonder, that his face is red?
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head

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