4 acessos
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 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 it any wonder that his face is red
Kaw-liga that poor ol' wooden head
[ piano - guitar ]
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...