The only thing you cling on to is the bungee string and he wasn't clipped onto it. He had his straps on but wasn't attached to anything
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep, and caverns old
The pines were roaring on the height
The wind was moaning in the night
The Fire was red, it flaming spread
The Trees like torches blazed with light.
Opinions are like nipples, everybody has one. Some have firm points, others are barely discernible through layers, and some are displayed at every opportunity regardless of whether the audience has stated "I am interested in your nipples" or not - David Thorne