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