Otros Ejercicios
Sultans Of Swing 
Medium
de 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 hear music ring
Well now you step but you don't see too faces
Coming in out of the to hear the jazz go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, they 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 gets up under the lights to his thing
And Harry doesn't if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's alright
He can play the honky tonk 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
Drunk and in best brown baggies and their soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't they rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the they creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last as the bell rings
Goodnight, now it's to go home
Then he makes it fast 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 hear music ring
Well now you step but you don't see too faces
Coming in out of the to hear the jazz go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, they 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 gets up under the lights to his thing
And Harry doesn't if he doesn't make the scene
He's got a daytime job, he's alright
He can play the honky tonk 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
Drunk and in best brown baggies and their soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't they rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the they creole
Creole
And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last as the bell rings
Goodnight, now it's to go home
Then he makes it fast one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of
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