Buddy you’re a boy make a big noise
Playin’ in the street gonna be a big man some day
You got mud on yo’ face
You big disgrace
Kickin’ your can all over the place
Singin’.
‘We will we will rock you
We will we will rock you’.
Buddy you’re a young man hard man
Shoutin’ in the street gonna take on the world some day
You got blood on yo’ face
You big disgrace
Wavin’ your banner all over the place.
‘We will we will rock you’
Singin’
‘We will we will rock you’.
Buddy you’re an old man poor man
Pleadin’ with your eyes gonna make you some peace some
day
You got mud on your face
You big disgrace
Somebody better put you back into your place.
‘We will we will rock you’
Singin’
‘We will we will rock you’
Everybody
‘We will we will rock you’
‘We will we will rock you’
Alright.
You were young
and your heart was an open book
You used to say live and let live
(you know you did)
(you know you did)
(you know you did)
But if this ever changin’ world
in which we’re livin’
Makes you give in and cry
Say live and let die
Live and let die.
What does it matter to ya
When ya got a job to do
Ya got to do it well
You got to give the other fella hell.
You used to say live and let live
(you know you did)
(you know you did)
(you know you did)
But if this ever changin’ world
in which we’re livin’
Makes you give in and cry
Say live and let die
Live and let die.
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 blowin’ Dixie double four time
You feel alright when you hear that music ring.
And now you step inside but you don’t see too many faces
Comin’ in out of the rain you hear the jazz go down
Competition in other places
Oh 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 he’s strictly rhythm he doesn’t wanna 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 doin’ alright
He can play the honky tonk like anything
Savin’ 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
And the Sultans… yeah the Sultans play 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’
And he makes it fast with one more thing
‘We are the Sultans… We are the Sultans of Swing’.
