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 old kaw-liga, he never got a kiss Poor old kaw-liga, he don't know what he missed Is it any wonder that his face is red? Kaw-Liga,that poor old wooden head 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 Poor old kaw-liga, he never got a kiss Poor old kaw-liga, he don't know what he missed Is it any wonder that his face is red? Kaw-Liga,that poor old wooden head Then one day a wealthy customer bought the indian maid And took her oh so far away, but old kaw-liga stayed Kaw-Liga just stands there as lonely as can be And wishes he was still an old pine tree Poor old kaw-liga, he never got a kiss Poor old kaw-liga, he don't know what he missed Is it any wonder that his face is red? Kaw-Liga,that poor old wooden head Kaw-liga, Kaw-liga Kaw-Liga....