Answer:
What does no man want, yet no man want to lose?
What do you fill with empty hands?
Who works when he plays and plays when he works?
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.
I can sizzle like bacon, I am made with an egg. I have plenty of backbone, but lack a good leg. I peel layers like onions, but still remain whole. I can be long, like a flagpole, yet fit in a hole.
They are many and one, they wave and they drum, Used to cover a state, they go with you everywhere.