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
of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing double four time
You feel alright when you hear that music ring
Well now you but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, blowin' that sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London town
Check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
Mind he's rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old is all he can afford
When he up under the to his thing
And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's doing alright
He can play the honky tonk like anything
it up for Friday night
With the Sultans
We're the Sultans of Swing
Then a crowd of young boys, they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the they creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps up to the microphone
And says at last as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's to go home
Then he makes it with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the of
It's raining in the park, but meantime
of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing double four time
You feel alright when you hear that music ring
Well now you but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, blowin' that sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London town
Check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
Mind he's rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old is all he can afford
When he up under the to his thing
And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's doing alright
He can play the honky tonk like anything
it up for Friday night
With the Sultans
We're the Sultans of Swing
Then a crowd of young boys, they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the they creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps up to the microphone
And says at last as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's to go home
Then he makes it with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the of
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( Traducción Automática )
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