Answer:
They have not flesh, nor feathers, nor scales, nor bone. Yet they have fingers and thumbs of their own.
I am nothing really at all, Yet I am easily found; Ignore me at your own peril, and you might end up crowned!
Inside a burning house, this thing is best to make. And best to make it quickly, before the fire's too much to take.
It regulates our daily movements, but it feels no interest in our lives. It directs us when to come and go, but does not care if we pay attention. What is it?
Lives without a body, hears without ears, speaks without a mouth, to which the air alone gives birth. What is it?
The more of me you take, the more I appear behind you. What am I?