Kaw-Liga (Prairie Mix)

Golijah!

Poor old Golijah, he never got a kiss
Poor old Golijah, he don't know what he missed
Is it any wonder that his face is red?
Golijah, that poor wooden head

Golijah was a wooden Indian standing by the door
He fell in love with an Indian maid, oh, in the antique store
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
Too stubborn to ever show a sign
Because his heart is made of knotty pine

Golijah was a lonely Indian, never went nowhere
His heart was set on the Indian maid
With the cold, cold, coal-black hair
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 Golijah stayed
Just stands there as lonely as can be
And wishes he was still an old pine tree

Poor old Golijah, he never got a kiss
Poor old Golijah, he don't know what he missed
Is it any wonder that his face is red?
Golijah, that poor wooden head
Poor old Goliath
He never got a kiss
Poor old Goliath
He don't know what he missed
Is it any wonder
That his face is ripped?

Goliath, you're that poor old wooden head
Goliath, you're that poor old wooden head
Goliath, you're that poor old wooden head
Goliath, you're that poor old wooden head
Goliath, you're that poor old wooden head
Goliath, you're that poor old wooden head
Goliath, you're that poor old wooden head
Goliath, you're that poor old wooden head
Goliath, you're that poor old wooden head

Goliath!