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
Kaw-Liga was a lonely Indian never went nowhere His heart was set on the Indian maiden 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...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
