Capo: 2nd fret 
 
   Dm 
Kawliga, was a wooden Indian standing by the door 
  
He fell in love with an Indian maid over in the antique store 
                                          A7 
Kawliga just stood there and never let it show 
                                 Dm 
So she could never answer yes or no 
 
He always wore his Sunday feathers and held a tomahawk 
The maiden wore her beads and braids and hoped someday he'd talk 
Kawliga, too stubborn to ever show a sign 
Because his heart was made of knotty pine 
  

[Refrão]
D 
Poor ol' kawliga, he never got a kiss 
G 
Poor ol' Kawliga, he don't know what he missed 
D                                 A7 
Is it any wonder that his face is red 
                              D        Dm 
Kawliga, that poor ol' wooden head 
 
Kawliga, was a lonely Indian never went nowhere 
His heart was set on the Indian maiden with the coal black hair 
Kaliga, just stood there and never let it show 
So she could never answer yes or no 
 
Then one day a wealthy customer bought the Indian maid 
And took her, oh, so far away, but ol' Kawliga stayed 
Kawliga just stands there as lonely as can be 
And wishes he was still an old pine tree 
 
Chorus