The sounds of the volcanic slime of the crowds

"... so we had waited like someone waiting for the day when that secular November night is born on which joyous music was prepared, the bells of jubilation ... he heard on the horizon the conjure drums that were coming out to meet the disaster, he listened to distant laments, the sounds of the volcanic slime of the crowds who prostrated themselves in terror before a creature alien to their power ..."

-Gabriel García Márquez, The Autumn Of The Patriarch