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 raining in the park, but meantime
of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie four time
You feel you ring
Well now you step but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the to hear the jazz go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on south
Way on south, London town
Check out Guitar 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 lights to play his thing
And doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's doing alright
He can the honky tonk like anything
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
and dressed in their best brown baggies and platform soles
don't give a damn about any playing band
It ain't what call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the played creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the of Swing
It's raining in the park, but meantime
of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie four time
You feel you ring
Well now you step but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the to hear the jazz go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on south
Way on south, London town
Check out Guitar 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 lights to play his thing
And doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's doing alright
He can the honky tonk like anything
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
and dressed in their best brown baggies and platform soles
don't give a damn about any playing band
It ain't what call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the played creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the of Swing
Click any word to get definition.
( Automatic Translation )
Con tecnología de Microsoft® Translator
