Answer:
They're up near the sky, on something very tall. Sometimes they die, only then do they fall.
It is a sound of empty, speak and it'll talk back plenty. But all the more you yack, you'll get the same words back.
Ripped from my mother's womb. Beaten and burned, I become a blood thirsty killer.
You can tumble in it, roll in it, burn it, animal eat it. Used to cover floors, still used beyond stall doors. Freshens whatever it is placed on. Absorbs whatever is poured into it.
When the horse strokes the cat, the wood begins to sing.
They are many and one, they wave and they drum, Used to cover a state, they go with you everywhere.