Answer:
The more holes you cover the lower it goes.
My children are near and far. No matter that I know where they are. The gift I give them make their day. But if I were gone they would wander away.
A slow, solemn square-dance of warriors feinting. One by one they fall, warriors fainting, thirty-two on sixty-four.
It is worldwide, but once only a spider could weave one
You saw me where I never was and where I could not be. And yet within that very place, my face you often see.
What do angels sing in the shower?