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letra de kaw-liga (live) - barbara mandrell

kaw-liga was a wooden indian standing 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
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
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
kaw-liga was a lonely indian, never went nowhere
his heart was set on the indian maid with the 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 was still an old pine tree

- barbara mandrell

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