Answer:
Three little letters. A paradox to some. The worse that it is, the better it becomes.
Bright as diamonds, Loud as thunder, Never still, A thing of wonder.
My first is in blood and also in battle. My second is in acorn, oak, and apple. My third and fourth are both the same. In the center of sorrow and twice in refrain. My fifth starts eternity ending here. My last is the first of last, Oh Dear.
Plow and hoe, reap and sow, What soon does every farmer grow?
This thing runs but cannot walk, sometimes sings but never talks. Lacks arms, has handsΝΎ lacks a head but has a face.
What gift should you give blind people, drunks, and nerds for Christmas?