Category Archives: DIRE STRAITS

So Far Away

About: So Far Away is a 1985 rock song by Dire Straits from their album Brothers in Arms.

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Lyrics:
Here I am again in this mean old town
And you’re so far away from me
And where are you when the sun goes down
You’re so far away from me
You’re so far away from me
You’re so far I just can’t see
You’re so far away from me
You’re so far away from me

I’m tired of being in love and being all alone
When you’re so far away from me
I’m tired of making out on the telephone
‘Cause you’re so far away from me
You’re so far away from me
You’re so far I just can’t see
You’re so far away from me
You’re so far away from me

And I get so tired when I have to explain
When you’re so far away from me
See, you been in the sun and I’ve been in the rain
And you’re so far away from me
You’re so far away from me
You’re so far I just can’t see
You’re so far away from me
You’re so far away from me

You’re so far away from me
Oh, you’re so far away from me
Yeah, you’re so far away from me
So far away from me
Yeah, you’re so far away from me
You’re so far away from me
You’re so far away from me
You’re so far away from me
You’re so far away from me
So far away from me
So far away from me
Yeah, you’re so far away from me

Yes, you’re so far away from me

Lyrics presented here are property and copyright of their owners.

Sultans Of Swing

About: Sultans of Swing is a song by Dire Straits from their eponymous debut album, which Mark Knopfler wrote and composed.

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Lyrics:
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 play.

You step inside, but you don’t see too many faces.
Comin’ in out of the rain to 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

Check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords.
But it’s strictly rhythm; he doesn’t want to make it cry or sing.
Yes 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,
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.
The don’t give a damn about any trumpet playing band.
It ain’t what they call rock and roll.
And the Sultans,
Yes the Sultans play Creole.
Creole baby

Ah-ha

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.”

Lyrics presented here are property and copyright of their owners.