Other Exercises
Sultans Of Swing 
Medium
by Dire Straits
Fill In the blanks, then press Score to check your answers
You get a in the dark
It's raining in the park, but meantime
South of the you and you hold everything
A is blowing dixie double time
You feel alright when you that ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London town
Check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
Mind he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't want to it cry or sing
Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford
When he up under the lights to play his thing
And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't 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
and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the creole
Creole
And the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And at as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's 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
South of the you and you hold everything
A is blowing dixie double time
You feel alright when you that ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London town
Check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
Mind he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't want to it cry or sing
Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford
When he up under the lights to play his thing
And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't 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
and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the creole
Creole
And the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And at as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's 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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