letra de kaw-liga - johnny burnette
kaw-liga was a wooden indian standing by the door
he fell in love with an indian maid over in the antique store
kaw-liga, just stood there and never let it show
so she could never answer “yes” or “no”
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
poor old kaw-liga, he never got a kiss
poor old kaw-liga, he don’t know what he missed
is it any wonder that his face is red?
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
kaw-liga was a lonely indian never went nowhere
his heart was set on the indian maiden
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 old kaw-liga stayed
kaw-liga, just stands there as lonely as can be
and wishes he was still an old pine tree
poor old kaw-liga, he never got a kiss
poor old kaw-liga, he don’t know what he missed
is it any wonder that his face is red?
kaw-liga, that poor old wooden head
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