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 the music ring.

Well now you step inside but you don’t see too many faces.
Coming in out of the rain they hear the jazz go down.
Competition in other places.
But the horns, they blowin’ that sound
Way on down south
Way on down south
London town

You check out Guitar George, he knows-all the chords
Mind, it’s strictly rhythm, he doesn’t want to make it cry or sing.
They said 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.
Savin’ it up for Friday night
With the Sultans.
We’re the Sultans of Swing.

Then a crowd’a young boys, they’re foolin’ 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 playin’ band.
It ain’t what they call Rock and Roll.
And 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.”