Answer:
My teeth are sharp my back is straight to cut things up it is my fate.
Break me but I’ll continue to work touch me and maybe I’ll stay with you forever.
You use a knife to slice my head and weep beside me when I am dead.
Tear me off and scratch my head, what once was red is black instead. What am I?
I love to twist and dance. Though wingless I fly high up into the sky.
It flows out of the soil, It burns you if it boils, And holds us in its coils, More valuable than gold, As black as it is old.