Answer:
The last woman on Earth received a phone call. Who was the caller?
The warmer I am the fresher I am.
Every night I'm told what to do, and each morning I do what I'm told. But I still don't escape your scold. What am I?
I have to be broken before I can be used
I am the black child of a white father a wingless bird flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me even though there is no cause for grief and at once on my birth I am dissolved into air.
What goes up the hill and down the hill, And spite of all, yet stand still?