- TALISMAN (Cummings 1970) Trinket worn with colors matching saddened eyes Has lost its magic touch People from a distant hill Have crossed an ever-stretching sea of sand Artificial flowers cannot die For life within them is illusion [Chorus] Talisman, talisman grace my hand Talisman grace my hand Figures made of pedigrees Control the non-existent soul of John Smith Walk the creature, let it run But slacken not the rope to which it's bound Ships in bottles cannot sail And neither can a tombstone kill a feather Talisman, talisman grace my hand Talisman grace my hand Kings are nothing more without the glory And the wealth behind their thinking Let me feel the choice of seeing Dawn or setting sun before I die Myriads of painted faces Rush behind the eye of the uncertain Talisman, talisman grace my hand Talisman grace my hand [spoken] Let me live only to do And let me do only to live My steel image comes with the sun And that's where it slumbers now Talisman, talisman grace my hand Talisman grace my hand ~~~~ SOUR SUITE (Cummings 1971) Don't want to listen to my telephone ring Or sing ding-a-ling or talk about a thing Not this morning I don't want to think about the night before Or maybe it's a bore behind an open door I've got no time for that this morning 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 want to think about a runaway dad That took away the only thing that I've never had Don't even miss him this morning I don't want to 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 because 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, because now they're gone And worn-out phrases just keep a-hanging 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 Because 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 want to listen to my telephone ring Or sing ding-a-ling or talk about a thing Leave me alone this morning --- Both songs composed by Burton Cummings for The Guess Who