Other Exercises
Sultans Of Swing 
Medium
by Dire Straits
Fill In the blanks, then press Score to check your answers
You get a shiver 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 double time
You feel when you hear that music ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the to hear the go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on south
Way on down south, London town
out Guitar George, he all the chords
he's rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old is all he can afford
When he gets up under the lights to play his thing
And doesn't mind if he doesn't make 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 of young boys, they're around in the corner
Drunk and in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet band
It ain't call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And the man, he steps up to the microphone
And says at just as the rings
Goodnight, now it's to go home
he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the of
It's raining in the park, but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is dixie double time
You feel when you hear that music ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the to hear the go down
Competition in places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' that sound
Way on south
Way on down south, London town
out Guitar George, he all the chords
he's rhythm, he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes and an old is all he can afford
When he gets up under the lights to play his thing
And doesn't mind if he doesn't make 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 of young boys, they're around in the corner
Drunk and in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet band
It ain't call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they played creole
Creole
And the man, he steps up to the microphone
And says at just as the rings
Goodnight, now it's to go home
he makes it fast with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the of
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