| Song | Sour Suite (Remastered) - Remastered |
| Artist | The Guess Who |
| Album | Greatest Hits |
| (Burton Cummings) | |
| Who the f*** are you | |
| Don’t wanna listen to my telephone ring ring ring | |
| Or sing ding-a-ling or talk about a thing | |
| Not this morning, not never ever, | |
| Don’t wanna think about the night before | |
| Or maybe it’s a bore behind an open door | |
| Got no time for that this morning(oooohhh) | |
| If I had the mind or | |
| I had the time | |
| Maybe I could throw together a new kind of rhyme | |
| And tell about my warning | |
| But it’s too late now. | |
| It's too late now. | |
| It's too late now. | |
| I don’t wanna think about a runaway dad | |
| That took away the only thing that | |
| I never had | |
| Don’t even miss him this morning | |
| I don’t wanna think about a cold goodbye | |
| Or a high school buddy got a little too high | |
| I can’t help him out this morning | |
| Reviewers laugh at me so | |
| I go out to sea | |
| And perhaps it’s just as well cause | |
| I’d rather be in hell | |
| Than be a wealthy man this morning | |
| But it’s too late now. | |
| It's too late now. | |
| It's too late now. | |
| Whatever happened to images cause now they’re gone | |
| And worn-out phrases just keep a hangin’ on | |
| Whatever happened to homes as opposed to houses | |
| The conversation sinks as the evening drowses | |
| It’s just like 46201. | |
| It's just like 46201. | |
| Whatever happened to early morning open skies | |
| And broken faces, half with melting eyes | |
| Enough of riddles that just play with time | |
| Cause I’m still here and | |
| I can’t beg a dime | |
| I’m back here in 46201. | |
| I’m back here in 46201. | |
| Something better's waiting for me around the corner now | |
| I got to find it and try and hang on for a little while | |
| I'm back here in 46201. | |
| There's gotta be a few small changes made | |
| Don’t wanna listen to my telephone ring | |
| Or sing ding-a-ling or talk about a thing ... | |
| Leave me alone this morning. |
| Burton Cummings | |
| Who the f are you | |
| Don' t wanna listen to my telephone ring ring ring | |
| Or sing dingaling or talk about a thing | |
| Not this morning, not never ever, | |
| Don' t wanna think about the night before | |
| Or maybe it' s a bore behind an open door | |
| Got no time for that this morning oooohhh | |
| If I had the mind or | |
| I had the time | |
| Maybe I could throw together a new kind of rhyme | |
| And tell about my warning | |
| But it' s too late now. | |
| It' s too late now. | |
| It' s too late now. | |
| I don' t wanna think about a runaway dad | |
| That took away the only thing that | |
| I never had | |
| Don' t even miss him this morning | |
| I don' t wanna think about a cold goodbye | |
| Or a high school buddy got a little too high | |
| I can' t help him out this morning | |
| Reviewers laugh at me so | |
| I go out to sea | |
| And perhaps it' s just as well cause | |
| I' d rather be in hell | |
| Than be a wealthy man this morning | |
| But it' s too late now. | |
| It' s too late now. | |
| It' s too late now. | |
| Whatever happened to images cause now they' re gone | |
| And wornout phrases just keep a hangin' on | |
| Whatever happened to homes as opposed to houses | |
| The conversation sinks as the evening drowses | |
| It' s just like 46201. | |
| It' s just like 46201. | |
| Whatever happened to early morning open skies | |
| And broken faces, half with melting eyes | |
| Enough of riddles that just play with time | |
| Cause I' m still here and | |
| I can' t beg a dime | |
| I' m back here in 46201. | |
| I' m back here in 46201. | |
| Something better' s waiting for me around the corner now | |
| I got to find it and try and hang on for a little while | |
| I' m back here in 46201. | |
| There' s gotta be a few small changes made | |
| Don' t wanna listen to my telephone ring | |
| Or sing dingaling or talk about a thing ... | |
| Leave me alone this morning. |