Oh it's not the pack, that you carry on your back, nor the springfield, on your shoulder! Nor the five inch crust, or clinton county dust, that makes you feel your limbs are gettin' older! And it's not the hike, on the hard turn pike, that whipes away your smile! nor, the socks of sisters, that raise the bloomin' blisters, IT'S THE LAST! LONG! MILE!