Текст пісні
Kaw-Liga was a wooden Indian standing by the door
He fell in love with an Indian maid over in the antique store
(Hank, you got it wrong) Kaw-Liga was a wooden
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
Kaw-Liga was the wooden Indian standing by the door
He fell in love with an Indian maid over in the antique store
Kaw-Liga
Just stood there, never told a soul
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 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, never told a soul
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 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 ol' wooden head