Answer:
I move without wings, Between silken string, I leave as you find, My substance behind.
All about, but cannot be seen, Can be captured, cannot be held, No throat, but can be heard.
What surrounds the world, yet dwells within a thimble?
Long and think, red within, with a nail at the end.
I weaken all men for hours each day. I show you strange visions while you are away. I take you by night, by day take you back. None suffer to have me, but do from my lack.
If lightning strikes an orchestra who is the one most likely to get hit?