Kaw-Liga --- Hank Williams/Fred Rose
Kaw-[Em]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 [B7]show,
So she could never answer “yes” or [Em]“no”.
He [Em]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 [B7]sign,
Because his heart was made of knotty [Em]pine.
[E]Poor old Kaw-Liga, he never got a kiss.
[A]Poor old Kaw-Liga, he don’t know what he missed.
[E]Is it any wonder that his face is [B7]red?
Kaw-Liga, that poor old wooden [E]head. [Em]
Kaw- [Em]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 [B7]show,
So she could never answer “yes” or [Em]“no”.
[Em]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 [B7]be,
And wishes he was still an old pine [Em]tree.
[E]Poor old Kaw-Liga, he never got a kiss.
[A]Poor old Kaw-Liga, he don’t know what he missed.
[E]Is it any wonder that his face is [B7]red?
Kaw-Liga, that poor old wooden [E]head.