Answer:
If you lose one of me, you are upset, bewildered, and perplexed. If you lose two of me, you are blissfully unaware. What am I?
The thunder comes before the lightning, which comes before the cloud. The rain dries all the land it touches, wrapping the earth in a blood red shroud. What am I?
Every dawn begins with me. At dusk I'll be the first you see and daybreak couldn't come without. What midday centers all about. Daises grow from me I'm told. And when I come I end all code but in the sun I won't be found. Yet still each day I'll be around.
I am a rock group with four members all of whom died in plane crashes. Who am I?
You use me from your head to your toes. The more I work, the thinner I grow. What am I?
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?