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 everything
A band is dixie four time
You alright when you 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 down south
Way on south, London town
out Guitar George, he all the chords
Mind he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford
When he up under the lights to 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 the honky tonk like anything
Saving it up for Friday night
the Sultans
We're the of Swing
a crowd of young boys, they're around in the corner
and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a about any trumpet band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they creole
Creole
And the man, he up to the microphone
And says at last as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it fast 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 everything
A band is dixie four time
You alright when you 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 down south
Way on south, London town
out Guitar George, he all the chords
Mind he's strictly rhythm, he doesn't to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old guitar is all he can afford
When he up under the lights to 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 the honky tonk like anything
Saving it up for Friday night
the Sultans
We're the of Swing
a crowd of young boys, they're around in the corner
and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a about any trumpet band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they creole
Creole
And the man, he up to the microphone
And says at last as the time bell rings
Goodnight, now it's time to go home
Then he makes it fast one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of
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