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 in the park, but meantime
of the you stop and you hold everything
A band is dixie double four time
You feel alright when you hear that music ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
in places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' sound
Way on down south
Way on 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 the lights to play his thing
And Harry doesn't if he doesn't the scene
He's got a job, he's doing alright
He can play the honky like anything
Saving it up for Friday night
With the Sultans
We're the of Swing
Then a crowd of boys, they're fooling around in the corner
and dressed in their best brown baggies and platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet band
It ain't what call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they creole
Creole
And then the man, he right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the bell rings
Goodnight, now it's to go home
he it with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing
It's in the park, but meantime
of the you stop and you hold everything
A band is dixie double four time
You feel alright when you hear that music ring
Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
in places
Ah but the horns, they blowin' sound
Way on down south
Way on 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 the lights to play his thing
And Harry doesn't if he doesn't the scene
He's got a job, he's doing alright
He can play the honky like anything
Saving it up for Friday night
With the Sultans
We're the of Swing
Then a crowd of boys, they're fooling around in the corner
and dressed in their best brown baggies and platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet band
It ain't what call rock and roll
Then the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans they creole
Creole
And then the man, he right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the bell rings
Goodnight, now it's to go home
he it with one more thing
We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing
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( Automatic Translation )
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