The fish may rot from the head, but when the volcano erupts, it does not start at the top.
It spoke with a deep bass voice. As the world turned, it descended into a violent tremolo. People fell from grace as it continued its painful crescendo. An occasional pizzicato lightened our load. It approached its whole note with a furious bow. There wasn’t a happy medium in sight. Simply piano to sfz. A triple forte was a mere suggestion. The fine brought the cello to its ultimate C. People exhaled and shoulders finally relaxed. The pain was finally released.