Answer:
The more holes you cover the lower I go.
I'm sometimes white but most often I'm black. I take you there but never bring you back.
I sit high glowing and watch the world go by. Without me everything would seem dull and dangerous. What am I?
Deep, deep, do they go. Spreading out as they go. Never needing any air. They are sometimes as fine as hair.
With a halo of water and a tongue of wood, stone as skin long I stood. What am I?
The answer I give is yes, but what I mean is no. What was the question?