How did I get up on this rock?

A hero there below me crying Rescue! Rescue! Rescue!

He’s standing armored up in a very small boat,/And I am hanging from a tree growing/Sideways from a cliff.

His balance isn’t great,/And every time he screams,/He threatens to capsize.

The wind has blown my skirt up/Around my hips, and there’s nothing/I can do about it.

Men are so impractical./Can’t he see — I can’t rescue him/Any more than he can rescue me?