Answer:
Long and slinky like a trout, never sings till it's guts come out.
My first is high, My second damp, My whole a tie, A writer's cramp
This thing runs but cannot walk, sometimes sings but never talks. Lacks arms, has hands; lacks a head but has a face.
The older they are the less wrinkles they have.
Although I'm not an insect, some people found me very difficult to exterminate. They called me something like 'insane priest.' The first half of my name means the same as 'scrape,' & my last three letters are a metal. Who am I?
What is always coming but never arrives?