Answer:
You can read it both ways, I wearΝΎ One way it's a number, reversed a snare.
Always wax, yet always wane: I melt, succumbed to the flame. Lighting darkness, with fate unblest, I soon devolve to shapeless mess.
Look into my face and I'm everybody. Scratch my back and I'm nobody.
Plow and hoe, reap and sow, What soon does every farmer grow?
What has wings, but can not fly. Is enclosed, but can outside also lie. Can open itself up, or close itself away. Is the place of kings and queens and doggerel of every means. What is it upon which I stand? Which can lead us to different lands.
They are many and one, they wave and they drum, Used to cover a state, they go with you everywhere.