Kawliga was a wooden Indian standin' by the door
He fell in love with an Indian maiden over in the antique store
Kawliga well he just stood there and said he never let it show
All she could never answer yes or no

Poor ol' Kawliga well 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

He always wore his Sunday feathers and held a tomahawk
The maiden wore her beads and braids and hoped someday he'd talk
Kawliga oh ho
well he stood there as lonely as can be
Cause his heart was an ol' pine knoty tree

Poor ol' Kawliga well 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

And then one day a wealthy customer bought the Indian maid
He took her oh so far away but ol' Kawliga stayed
Kawliga oh ho
Well he stood there and said he never let it show 
oh she could never answer yes or no

Poor ol' Kawliga well 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