Loretta Lynn - Kaw-Liga

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Kaw-Liga

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
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
 
Kaw-Liga too stubborn
To ever show a sign
Because his heart
Was made of knoty pine
 
Poor ol' Kaw-Liga
He never got a kiss
Poor ol' Kaw-Liga
He don't know what he missed
 
Is it any wonder
That his face is red
Kaw-Liga
That poor ol' wooden head
 
Kaw-Liga was a lonely Indian
Never went nowhere
His heart was set on the Indian maid
With the coal black hair
 
Kaw-Liga just stood there
And never let it show
So she could never answer
Yes or no
 
And then one day a wealthy customer
Bought the Indian maid
And took her, oh, so far away
But ol' Kaw-Liga stayed
 
Kaw-Liga just stands there
As lonely as can be
And wishes he was still
An old pine tree
 
Poor ol' Kaw-Liga
He never got a kiss
Poor ol' Kaw-Liga
He don't know what he missed
 
Is it any wonder
That his face is red
Kaw-Liga
That poor ol' wooden head
 
Kaw-Liga that poor ol' wooden head...
 
Пуснато от LobolyrixLobolyrix в Нед, 12/08/2018 - 15:16
Благодаря!получил/а 1 благодарност

 

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