Luyện nghe bài hát Kwa- Liga

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Kaw-liga was a Indian standing by the door.
He fell in love with an Indian maiden over in the store.
Kaw-liga just stood and never let it show,
So she could answer "yes" or "no."

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

He always his Sunday feathers and held a tomahawk.
The maiden her beads and braids and hoped some day he'd talk.
Kaw-liga, too stubborn to show a sign,
his heart was made of knotty pine.

Kaw-liga was a Indian, never went nowhere.
His heart was set on the Indian with the coal black hair.
Kaw-liga just stood and never let it show,
So she could never "yes" or "no."

And then one day a wealthy customer the Indian maid,
And took her, oh, so far away, but ol' stayed.
Kaw-liga just stands as lonely as can be,
And wishes he was an old pine tree.