Answer:
I stand in one place yet I fill a whole room. I can be filled with molten rock and come in every hue.
My voice is tender my waist is slender and I'm often invited to play. Yet wherever I go I must take my bow or else I have nothing to say.
I am a red drum which sounds without being touched, and grows silent, when touched. What am I?
I run up and down the stairs without moving. What am I?
What goes up and down, but does not move?
It flows out of the soil, It burns you if it boils, And holds us in its coils, More valuable than gold, As black as it is old.