Kaw-Liga was a wooden Indian standin' by the door
He fell in love with an Indian maiden over in the antique store
Kaw-Liga just stood there and never let it show
So she could never answer yes or no

Well, 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 ol' Kaw-Liga, he never got a kiss
Poor ol' Kaw-Liga, he don't know what he'd miss
Well 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 maiden with that 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 were still an ol' pine tree

Well poor ol' Kaw-Liga, he never got a kiss
Poor ol' Kaw-Liga, he don't know what he'd miss
Well is it any wonder that his face is red?
Kaw-Liga, that poor ol' wooden head

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