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 Cause he 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 let it show Cause he could never answer "yes" or "no"
Poor old Kaw-Liga, hе never got a kiss Poor old Kaw-Liga, he don't know what hе 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 showed a sign Because his heart was made of knotty pine
Until one day, a wealthy customer bought the Indian maid And took her, oh, so far away but old Kaw-Liga stayed Kaw-Liga just stood there as lonely as could be And wished 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 headTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
