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....