If his face shows a queer scowl
And he seems neither fish nor fowl
If you can’t decide for sure
Whether friendship is fake or pure

Try ascending the steepest slope
Tied to opposite ends of the rope
Finding toeholds in ice and snow
His true colors will show

If the mountains give him the chills
And he looks like your stomach feels
After slipping on ice, he cries
Panic shines in his wide-open eyes

Next to you just a stranger stands
You must not put your life in his hands
It’s no use to berate or curse
Might as well let him loose

If he didn’t complain or whine
Clenching teeth through entire climb
When you suddenly slipped and fell
His hands fought with the rope but held

If he acted as if at war
At the summit he swayed with awe
Doesn’t matter what he might seem
You can place all your trust in him