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Sultans of Swing

 

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 blowing 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

Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down

Competition in other places

Ah but the horns, they blowing that sound

Way on down south, way on down south, London town

 

You 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 gets up under the lights to play his thing

 

And Harry 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, with the Sultans of Swing

 

And a crowd of young boys, they’re fooling around in the corner

Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles

They don’t give a damn about any trumpet playing band

It ain’t what they call rock and roll

Then the Sultans, yeah, the Sultans they play Creole

Creole

 

And then the man, he steps right up to the microphone

And says at last, just as the time bell rings

“Goodnight, now it’s time to go home”

Then he makes it fast with one more thing

“We are the Sultans, we are the Sultans of Swing”