Answer:
They have not flesh, nor feathers, nor scales, nor bone. Yet they have fingers and thumbs of their own. What are they?
What goes up when the rain comes down?
Walk on the living, they don't even mumble. Walk on the dead, they mutter and grumble.
My first half is normally made of stone, my second is crazy, and I taste sweet when complete.
Kills the bad ones and the sad ones. Tightens to fit, so one size fits.
What covers its face with its hands, speaks no language, yet most known what it's saying?