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
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie four time
You alright when you hear music ring
Well now you 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' that sound
Way on south
Way on south, town
Check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old is all he can afford
he up under the lights to play his thing
And Harry doesn't 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
With the Sultans
We're the Sultans of Swing
a crowd of young boys, they're fooling in the corner
Drunk and in their best brown and soles
They don't a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps 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 fast with one thing
We are the Sultans
We are the of Swing
It's in the park, but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie four time
You alright when you hear music ring
Well now you 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' that sound
Way on south
Way on south, town
Check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old is all he can afford
he up under the lights to play his thing
And Harry doesn't 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
With the Sultans
We're the Sultans of Swing
a crowd of young boys, they're fooling in the corner
Drunk and in their best brown and soles
They don't a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps 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 fast with one thing
We are the Sultans
We are the of Swing
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( Automatic Translation )
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