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
South of the you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie double four time
You feel when you ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the go down
Competition in other places
Ah but the horns, blowin' 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
When 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 alright
He can play the like anything
it up for Friday night
With the Sultans
We're the Sultans of Swing
Then a of young boys, they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in brown baggies and their platform soles
don't a damn about any trumpet band
It ain't they call rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps 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 with one thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing
It's raining in the park, but meantime
South of the you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie double four time
You feel when you ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the go down
Competition in other places
Ah but the horns, blowin' 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
When 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 alright
He can play the like anything
it up for Friday night
With the Sultans
We're the Sultans of Swing
Then a of young boys, they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in brown baggies and their platform soles
don't a damn about any trumpet band
It ain't they call rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps 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 with one thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing
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( Automatic Translation )
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