
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?

[…] Rescue […]
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