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
   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 knotty pine
  
   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 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 let it show
   So she could never answer yes or no
  
   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 head
  
   Then one day a wealthy customer bought the indian maid
   And took her oh so far away, but old kaw-liga stayed
   Kaw-Liga just stands there as lonely as can be
   And wishes 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 head
  
   Kaw-liga, Kaw-liga Kaw-Liga....