A Kiss Of The Rope.

she's holding on,
oh, how she's holding on,

And she's fighting,
oh, how she's fighting,

Her fingers are grasping onto the past,
Trying, trying too not let go,
Like a puppet on a string,

Except, the boy,
Oh, the boy,

Scissors,
He's holding razor sharp scissors,

His scissors, 
They lean down and kiss the rope.

And with that, her world is gone.