Otros Ejercicios
Sultans Of Swing 
Medium
de Dire Straits
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You get a shiver in the dark
It's raining in the park, but meantime
South of the river you and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie four time
You feel you hear that music ring
Well now you step but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in other places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London town
Check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old is all he can afford
When he gets up the to his thing
And doesn't if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's doing alright
He can play the honky anything
it up for Friday night
With the Sultans
We're the Sultans of Swing
a crowd of young boys, they're fooling in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their soles
They don't give a damn any trumpet band
It ain't what rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And the man, he up to the microphone
And at last just as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of
It's raining in the park, but meantime
South of the river you and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie four time
You feel you hear that music ring
Well now you step but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in other places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London town
Check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old is all he can afford
When he gets up the to his thing
And doesn't if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's doing alright
He can play the honky anything
it up for Friday night
With the Sultans
We're the Sultans of Swing
a crowd of young boys, they're fooling in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their soles
They don't give a damn any trumpet band
It ain't what rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And the man, he up to the microphone
And at last just as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of
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