Kawliga was a
wooden Indian standing by the door.
He fell in love with an Indian Maiden
over in the
antique store.
Kaw - Li - Ga
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
- Li -Ga
too stubborn to ever show a sign
Because his heart was made of knotty pine.
Poor
ol' Kawliga, he never got a kiss
Poor ol' Kawliga, He don't know what he missed.
Is it any wonder that his face is red
Kawliga that poor old wooden head.
Kawliga
was a wooden Indian
never went no where
His heart was set on the Indian maiden
with the coal black hair.
Kaw - Li - Ga
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' Kawliga stayed.
Kaw
- Li - Ga
Just
stands there as lonely as can be
And wishes he was still an old pine tree.
Kawliga
