Kaw-Liga
Fred Rose - Hank Williams

(Em)Kaw-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 show (B7)
So she could never answer „yes“ or „no“ (Em)

(Em)He always wore his Sunday feathers and held a tomahawk
The maiden wore her beads and braids and hoped some day he’d talk
Kaw-Liga to stubborn to ever show a sign (B7)
Because his heart was made of knotty pine (Em)

  (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 red (B7)
   Kaw-Liga, that poor old wooden head (E)

(Em)Kaw-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 show (B7)
So she could never answer „yes“ or „no“ (Em)

(Em)And 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 be (B7)
And wishes he was still an old pine tree (Em)


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