Kawliga

A
Kaw-liga was a wooden Indian standing by the door
He fell in love with an Indian maid over in the antique store
                                            E
Kaw-liga  just stood there and never let it show
                                 A
So she could never answer yes or no

 A
He always wore his Sunday feathers and held a tomahawk
The maiden wore her beads and braids and hoped someday he'd talk
                                      E
Kaw-liga  too stubborn to ever show a sign
                                     A
Because his heart was made of knotty pine

A
Poor ol' Kaw-liga he never got a kiss
D
Poor ol' Kaw-liga he don't know what he missed
A                                  E
Is it any wonder that his face is red
                              A
Kaw-liga that poor ol' wooden head

A
Kaw-liga was a lonely Indian never went nowhere
His heart was set on the Indian maiden with the coal black hair
                                           E
Kaw-liga just stood there and never let it show
                                 A
So she could never answer yes or no

 A
Then one day a wealthy customer bought the Indian maid
And took her oh so far away but ol' Kaw-liga stayed
                                            E
Kaw-liga just stands there as lonely as can be
                                    A
And wishes he was still an old pine tree

A
Poor ol' Kaw-liga he never got a kiss
D
Poor ol' Kaw-liga he don't know what he missed
A                                  E
Is it any wonder that his face is red
                              A
Kaw-liga that poor ol' wooden head

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