Answer:
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 am I?
I am the reaction after enjoying soda.
I am a rock group with four members. All dead one was assassinated.
Long and thin red within with a nail at the end.
A little house full of meat, no door to go in and eat.