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.