Otros Ejercicios
Sultans Of Swing 
Medium
de Dire Straits
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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 dixie time
You feel alright you hear that music ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in other places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on south
Way on down south, town
Check out 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
he gets 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 play the honky tonk like anything
it up for night
With the Sultans
We're the of Swing
Then a crowd of boys, they're fooling in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the played creole
Creole
And the man, he up to the microphone
And says at last just as the bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing
It's raining in the park, but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is dixie time
You feel alright you hear that music ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in other places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on south
Way on down south, town
Check out 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
he gets 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 play the honky tonk like anything
it up for night
With the Sultans
We're the of Swing
Then a crowd of boys, they're fooling in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the played creole
Creole
And the man, he up to the microphone
And says at last just as the bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing
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( Traducción Automática )
Con tecnología de Microsoft® Translator
