The conductor just taps, has the attention of that which (only a brat would bring back a sandwich) starts like, to glow gently sit or rosin a bow that could make God collapse with thousand men clap what the brass came to bat with turning a show that they only know pride of a garden that night only grows true warning timbre subsides like the snow just about sighed last November or so (flowering pride beside envelopes) touching the chair of a lion turning to bow
I love the urgency of the short line breaks here