Other Exercises
Sultans Of Swing 
Medium
by Dire Straits
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You get a shiver in the dark
It's in the park, but meantime
South of the river you and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie double four time
You feel alright you ring
Well now you inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the 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
Check out Guitar George, he all the chords
Mind he's rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford
When he up the lights to his thing
And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a job, he's doing alright
He can play the 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
and dressed in best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn any trumpet band
It ain't what they call and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they creole
Creole
And the man, he steps up to the microphone
And at as the bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of
It's in the park, but meantime
South of the river you and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie double four time
You feel alright you ring
Well now you inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the 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
Check out Guitar George, he all the chords
Mind he's rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford
When he up the lights to his thing
And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a job, he's doing alright
He can play the 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
and dressed in best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn any trumpet band
It ain't what they call and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they creole
Creole
And the man, he steps up to the microphone
And at as the bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of
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