Answer:
I hide but my head is outside.
Held firmly in the hands, like a sword it cuts deep. Bloodless strokes, all, then forward we leap.
What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?
I can be cracked, I can be made. I can be told, I can be played.
You heart it speak, for it has a hard tongue. But it cannot breathe, for it has not a lung.
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?