Kaw-liga
Hank Williams
(Hank Williams, M-G-M 11416, 1953)
Kaw-liga was a wooden indian, standing by the door
He fell in love with an indian maid, over the antique store
Kaw-liga oooh, stands there and never let it show
She could never answer "yes" or "no"
He always wore his Sunday feathers, held a tomahawk
The maiden wore her beads and braids
And hoped someday he'd talk
Kaw-liga oooh, stood there and never showed 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 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
The one with the coal black hair
Kaw-liga oooh, stand there and never let it show
She could never answer: "yes" or "no"
And then one day a wealthy customer bought the indian maid
He took her o so far away, but ol' Kaw-liga stayed
Kaw-liga oooh, 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
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 oooooohh
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