Answer:
With pointed fangs it sits in wait. With piercing force it doles out fate, over bloodless victims proclaiming its might. Eternally joining in a single bite.
I cannot be felt, seen or touched. Yet I can be found in everybody. My existence is always in debate. Yet I have my own style of music.
My voice is tender, my waist is slender and I'm often invited to play. Yet wherever I go, I must take my bow or else I have nothing to say.
I am round as a bowl, deep as a tub, but all the world's water couldn't fill me up.
A cowboy rode into Friday. He stayed in town for three days and rode back on friday. How is that possible?
hey are producers of pies and burgers and are great for tipping.