Answer:
You get many of me, but never enough. After the last one, your life soon will snuff. You may have one of me but one day a year, When the last one is gone, your life disappears.
I am what remains when nothing is left.What am I?
What loses its head in the morning and gets it back at night?
What turns everything around but does not move?
I cannot be felt, seen or touched. Yet I can be found in everybody. My existence is always in debate. Yet I have my own style of music.
I have two eyes in the front and a lot of eyes on my tail