Other Exercises
Sultans Of Swing 
Medium
by Dire Straits
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You get a shiver in the dark
It's raining in the park, but meantime
of the you and you hold everything
A is blowing double four time
You you that music ring
Well now you inside but you don't see too 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 George, he knows all the chords
Mind 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 to play his thing
And doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a job, he's alright
He can the honky like anything
Saving 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 in their brown baggies and platform soles
They don't a damn about any trumpet band
It ain't what call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And at last as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the of Swing
It's raining in the park, but meantime
of the you and you hold everything
A is blowing double four time
You you that music ring
Well now you inside but you don't see too 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 George, he knows all the chords
Mind 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 to play his thing
And doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a job, he's alright
He can the honky like anything
Saving 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 in their brown baggies and platform soles
They don't a damn about any trumpet band
It ain't what call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And at last as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the of Swing
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( Automatic Translation )
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