Kawliga was a wooden Indian standing by the door
He fell in love with an Indian maid over in the antique store
Kawliga -a 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
Kawliga -a too stubborn to ever show a sign
Because his heart was made of knotty pine
Poor ol' Kawliga he never got a kiss
Poor ol' Kawliga he don't know what he missed
Is it any wonder that his face is red
Kawliga that poor ol' wooden head
Kawliga was a lonely Indian never went nowhere
His heart was set on the Indian maiden with the coal black hair
Kawliga - a just stood there and never let it show
So she could never answer "YES" or "NO"
Then one day a wealthy customer bought the Indian maid
And took her oh so far away but ol' Kawliga stayed
Kawliga - a just stands there as lonely as can be
And wishes he was still an old pine tree
Poor ol' Kawliga he never got a kiss
Poor ol' Kawliga he don't know what he missed
Is it any wonder that his face is red
Kawliga that poor ol' wooden head