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Loretta Lynn
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Kaw-Liga
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
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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
Kaw-Liga, that poor ol' wooden head
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