Answer:
I have keys but no locks. I have space but no room. You can enter but can't go outside. What am I?
In all the world none can compare I am a tiny weaver my deadly cloth so silky and fair.
I am heavy forward but backward I am not. What am I?
I am a creature with a βtightβ name.
You write on me and secrets I can keep in places never seen. I spin like a top. Though stiff as a board, I'm often described like a mop. What am I?
If lightning strikes an orchestra who is the one most likely to get hit?