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.

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