Answer:
The more of it there is, the less you see.
Two bodies have I, though both joined in one. The more still I stand, the quicker I run.
When they are caught, they are thrown away. When they escape, you itch all day.
Long legs, crooked thighs, little head, and no eyes.
White bird, featherless, flying out of paradise. Flying over sea and land. Dying in my hand.
If lightning strikes an orchestra who is the one most likely to get hit?