Otros Ejercicios
Sultans Of Swing 
Medium
de Dire Straits
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You get a shiver in the dark
It's in the park, but meantime
South of the you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie double time
You feel you hear that music ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to the jazz go down
in other places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London town
Check out George, he knows all the chords
he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't want to it cry or sing
Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford
he gets up under the to play his thing
And Harry doesn't if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's alright
He can play the honky tonk like anything
Saving it up for night
the Sultans
We're the Sultans of Swing
a crowd of young boys, they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time 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 in the park, but meantime
South of the you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie double time
You feel you hear that music ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to the jazz go down
in other places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London town
Check out George, he knows all the chords
he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't want to it cry or sing
Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford
he gets up under the to play his thing
And Harry doesn't if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's alright
He can play the honky tonk like anything
Saving it up for night
the Sultans
We're the Sultans of Swing
a crowd of young boys, they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time 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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