KAW-LIGA
(Hank Williams)
HANK WILLIAMS (M-G-M 11416, 1953)

Kaw-liga was a wooden indian, standing by the door
He fell in love with an indian maid, over the antique store
Kaw-liga oooh, stands there and never let it show
She could never answer "yes" or "no"

He always wore his Sunday feathers, held a tomahawk
The maiden wore her beads and braids
And hoped someday he'd talk
Kaw-liga oooh, stood there and never showed a sign
Because his heart was made of knotty pine

Poor ol' Kaw-liga, he never got a kiss
Poor ol' Kaw-liga, he don't know what he missed
Is it any wonder, that his face is red
Kaw-liga, that poor ol' wooden head

Kaw-liga was a lonely indian, never went nowhere
His heart was set on the indian maid
The one with the coal black hair
Kaw-liga oooh, stand there and never let it show
She could never answer: "yes" or "no"

And then one day a wealthy customer bought the indian maid
He took her o so far away, but ol' Kaw-liga stayed
Kaw-liga oooh, stands there as lonely as can be
And wishes, he was still an old pine tree

Poor ol' Kaw-liga, he never got a kiss
Poor ol' Kaw-liga, he don't know what he missed
Is it any wonder, that his face is red
Kaw-liga, that poor ol' wooden head

Poor ol' Kaw-liga, he never got a kiss
Poor ol' Kaw-liga, he don't know what he missed
Is it any wonder, that his face is red
Kaw-liga, that poor ol' wooden head

Kaw-liga oooooohh