Collider
Collider was a wooden Indian
Standing by the door
He fell in love with an Indian maiden
Over in the antique store
Collider
Just stood there and never let it show
Cause she could never
answer yes or no
Well he always wore his Sunday feathers
And he held his Tommy Hawk
The maiden wore her beads and braids
And hoped someday he'd talk
Colliger
Too stubborn to ever show a sign
Because his heart was
made of naughty pipes
Well, poor ol' Colliger never got a kiss
Poor ol' Colliger,
he don't know what he missed
Is it any wonder that his face is red?
Elijah, poor old wooden head
Elijah was a lonely Indian,
he never went nowhere
His part was set on the Indian maiden
and the coal black hat
Colliger just stood there
and never let it show
Oh she could never answer yes or no
But then one day a wealthy customer
bought the Indian mate
And he took her oh so far away but oh
Colliger stayed
Colliger just spends there
as lonely as can be
Well, he wishes he was still
an old pine tree
Poor old Colliger never got a kiss
Poor old Colliger,
he don't know what he's missed
Is it any wonder that his face is red?