调：A minor
Verse 1
Am
A
Am
A
Am
Collagia, Collagia
Collagia was a wooden Indian
standing by the door
He fell in love with an Indian maiden
over in the antique store
Collagia
he don't know what he missed
A
Am
A
that poor old wooden head
Am
A
Am
Colliger, Colliger
He always wore his Sunday feathers
and held a tomahawk
The maiden wore her beads and braids
and hoped someday he'd talk
Collagia
he never got a kiss
he don't know what he missed
E
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E
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Am
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red?
bought the Indian maid
And took her oh so far away,
but old Kalija stayed Kalija
he never got a kiss
he don't know what he missed
Collider,
Collider
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