Answer:
In buckles or lace I help set the pace. The farther you go the thinner I grow.
I am black within and red without With four corners round about.
What building has the most stories?
Wind and cord combine, buzzing in the box. In all this we find, though to some the use is lost. What am I?
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 did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?