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 river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie double four time
You when you hear that music ring
now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
in out of the rain to hear the go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on south
Way on down south, 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 up under the to play 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 the honky tonk anything
it up for Friday night
the Sultans
We're the of Swing
Then a crowd of young boys, they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any playing band
It ain't what call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of
It's raining in the park, but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing dixie double four time
You when you hear that music ring
now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
in out of the rain to hear the go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on south
Way on down south, 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 up under the to play 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 the honky tonk anything
it up for Friday night
the Sultans
We're the of Swing
Then a crowd of young boys, they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any playing band
It ain't what call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of
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