The branch pulls down
And springs back up,
You're flying through the air,
This exhilarating feeling
Is like a ride at the fair.

The wind is whipping 'round your face,
The ground has dropped away -
A fall from here - another day,
I won't fall - not today.

Your tightened fingers loose their grip,
Your fear has gone away,
You plummet back down toward the ground -
Your stomach bottom drops.

An excited scream escapes you,
You don't want the ride to stop!

The branch slows down
And you slide off,
It shoots back in the air.

Your time is up -
It's getting dark,
The sun is so unfair.