Текст песни Kaw Liga - Barbara Mandrell

Kaw-Liga
Kaw-Liga was a wooden Indian standing by the door
He fell in love with the Indian maiden by the cigar 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
Isn't 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
Then one day a wealthy customer bought the Indian maid
Took her oh so far away, but old Kaw-Liga stayed
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
Isn't any wonder that his face is red?
Kaw-Liga, that poor old wooden head
Kaw-Liga, that poor old wooden head