Answer:
I am a box who holds keys but not locks. With the right combination I may unlock your soul
I look at you you look at me I raise my right you raise your left.
I stink in living but when dead smells good.
Wind and cord combine, buzzing in the box. In all this we find, though to some the use is lost. What am I?
I jump when I walk and sit when I stand. What am I?
When is it bad luck to see a black cat?