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 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 maid
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
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 that poor ol' wooden head...