Answer:
If lightning strikes an orchestra, who is most likely to get hit?
You use a knife to slice my head and weep beside me when I am dead.
You went into the woods and got me. You sat down to seek me. You brought me home because you couldn't find me.
So cold damp and dark I am. To stay you would refrain yet those who occupy me do never complain.
Never resting, never still. Moving silently from hill to hill. It does not walk, run or trot. All is cool where it is not. What is it?
It flows out of the soil, It burns you if it boils, And holds us in its coils, More valuable than gold, As black as it is old.