Luyện nghe bài hát Kaw-liga

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Kaw-Liga was a wooden Indian, by the door
He fell in love an indian maid, over in the antique store
Kaw-Liga, ooh
stood there, and never let it show
So she never answer yes or no

He always his Sunday feathers, and held a tomahawk
The wore her beads and braids and hoped someday he'd talk
Kaw-Liga, ooh
To stubborn to ever a sign
Because his is made of knotty pine

Poor ol' Kaw-Liga, he got a kiss
Poor ol' Kaw-Liga, he know what he missed
Is it any that his face is red?
Kaw-Liga, that poor old head

Kaw-Liga was a lonely Indian, never went
His heart was set on the maid with the coal-black hair
Kaw-Liga, ooh
Just stood and never let it show
So she could never yes or no

And then one day, a customer bought the Indian maid
And took her oh-so far away but ol' stayed
Kaw-Liga, ooh
Just there, as lonely as can be
And wishes he were still an ol' tree

Poor ol' Kaw-Liga, he got a kiss
ol' Kaw-Liga, he don't know what he missed
Is it any wonder, that his face is
Kaw-Liga, you poor, ol' head