Other Exercises
Sultans Of Swing 
Medium
by Dire Straits
Fill In the blanks, then press Score to check your answers
You get a shiver in the dark
It's in the park, but meantime
of the river you stop and you everything
A is blowing dixie double four time
You feel when 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 hear the jazz go down
Competition in other places
Ah but the horns, blowin' that sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London town
out George, he all the chords
he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford
he gets up under the lights to play 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
Saving it up for Friday 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 brown baggies and their soles
They don't a damn any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And then the man, he right up to the microphone
And says at last as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it fast one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of
It's in the park, but meantime
of the river you stop and you everything
A is blowing dixie double four time
You feel when 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 hear the jazz go down
Competition in other places
Ah but the horns, blowin' that sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London town
out George, he all the chords
he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford
he gets up under the lights to play 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
Saving it up for Friday 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 brown baggies and their soles
They don't a damn any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And then the man, he right up to the microphone
And says at last as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it fast one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of
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