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Kaw-Liga was a wooden Indian standin' by the doorHe fell in love with an Indian maid over in the antique storeKaw-Liga just stood there and never let it showSo she could never answer yes or noPoor ol' Kaw-Liga he never got a kissPoor ol' Kaw-Liga he don't know what he missedIs it any wonder that his face is redKaw-Liga that poor ol' wooden headHe always wore his Sunday feathers and held a tomahawkThe maiden wore her beads and braids and hoped someday he'd talkKaw-Liga too stubborn to ever show a signBecause his heart was made of knoty pinePoor ol' Kaw-LigaAnd then one day a wealthy customer bought the Indian maidAnd took her oh so far away but ol' Kaw-Liga stayedKaw-Liga just stands there as lonely as can beAnd wishes he was still an old pine treePoor ol' Kaw-Liga Aus Songtexte Mania