poor ol' kaw-liga, you ain't never got a ol' kaw-liga, you don't know what you miss is it any wonder, that his is red?
kaw-liga, that old wooden head
kaw-liga was a indian standing by the door he fell in with an indian maid over in the store
just stood there and never let it so she could never "yes" or "no"
he always his sunday feathers and held a the maiden wore her beads and and hoped someday talk
too stubborn to ever show a because his heart is made of knotty
was a lonely indian never went his heart was set on the maiden with the black hair
just stood and never let it show so she could answer "yes" or "no"
and then one day, a customer bought the maid and her, oh, so far away but old stayed
there, as lonesome as can be just wishing he were an old pine tree
poor ol' kaw-liga, you never got a kiss ol' kaw-liga, you don't know what you miss is it any wonder, that his is red? kaw-liga, that poor old head
poor ol' kaw-liga, you ain't got a kiss poor ol' kaw-liga, you don't know you miss is it any wonder, that his is red? kaw-liga, that poor old wooden
kaw-liga, that old wooden head kaw-liga, that poor old head kaw-liga, that poor old head kaw-liga, poor old wooden head kaw-liga, that old wooden head kaw-liga, poor old wooden head kaw-liga, that poor old head kaw-liga, that poor old head