You get a shiver in the dark, it's raining in the park, but meantime
South of the river, you stop n' you hold everything
A band is blowing Dixie, double- four time
You feel all right when you hear that music ring
And now ya' step inside, but ya' 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're blowing that sound
Way on down south
Way on down south, London Town
Y'check
out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
Mind, it's strictly rhythm; he doesn't wanna' make it cry or sing
Yes n' 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
Hey
And
a crowd of young boys, they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk n' 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 n' Roll"
And the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans are playin' Creole
Creole Uh-
huh
And
then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
N' 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"