I'm tired of ignoring that I march to a different beat.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
For better or worse, I've always tried to march to my own drum and tell it like it is, while preserving some integrity and style. God, I'm fabulous!
Most of the people who will walk after me will be children, so make the beat keep time with short steps.
You can't go over every beat, every second, and worry about how you can do it better - it'll eat you alive.
As soon as I get in a rhythm, I'm very hard to stop.
I feel like being into the beat of your own drum has become too prominent in the culture.
At its best, American music is the soundtrack of our long - and often painful - march toward a more perfect union.
To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.
I don't view myself as marching to any right-wing drummer.
I don't like to rush my music.
In the procession I should feel the crushing feet, the clashing discords, the ruthless hands and stifling breath. I could not hear the rhythm of the march.