Take off your bedroom slippers. Put on your marching shoes ' he said his voice rising as applause and cheers mounted. 'Shake it off. Stop complainin'. Stop grumblin'. Stop cryin'. We are going to press on. We have work to do.
I listened motionless and still And as I mounted up the hill The music in my heart I bore Long after it was heard no more.
Once you start doing only what you've already proven you can do you're on the road to death.