Answer:
There is someone, and there is always another, for without the other, there wouldn't be one
I love to dance and twist and prance. I shake my tail, as away I sail. Wingless I fly into the sky.
My second is performed by my first, and it is thought a thief by the marks of my whole might be caught.
What can't you see, hear or feel, until its too late. What shadows love, and shopkeepers hate?
The higher I climb, the hotter I engage. I cannot escape from my crystal cage.
If lightning strikes an orchestra who is the one most likely to get hit?