Answer:
Look into my face and I'm everybody. Scratch my back and I'm nobody.
Twigs and spheres and poles and plates. Join and bind to reason make.
What zips through the sky with a tail of fire and dust. It could be an omen, its origin to discuss?
My first is second in line; I send shivers up your spine; not quite shining bright I glitter in the light.
My first is nothing but a name; my second is more small; my whole is of so little fame it has no name at all.
If lightning strikes an orchestra who is the one most likely to get hit?