Answer:
I am the red tongue of the earth, that buries cities.
Held firmly in the hands, like a sword it cuts deep. Bloodless strokes, all, then forward we leap.
My teeth are sharp, my back is straight, to cut things up it is my fate.
Vikings use this for warmth.
I'm flat. You use me everyday. You need me to live. But you give me away everyday. I'm coloured and I have a founding father on me. What am I?
It rows quickly with four oars but never comes out from under his own roof. What is it?