Answer:
My tongue hangs out as I run over fields and streets all day. I get tied up every morning and untied at night.
Many hear me, but no one sees me, and I only speak when spoken to
Although my cow is dead, I still beat her. What a racket she makes!
Some live in me, some live on. And some shave me to stride upon. I rarely leave my native land. Until my death I always stand. High and low I may be found. Both above and below ground.
My first is an insect; my second is a border; my whole puts the face in a tuneful disorder.
What is always coming but never arrives?