Answer:
Almost everyone needs it, asks for it, gives it. But almost nobody takes it.
I fly through the air on small feathered wings, seeking out life and destroying all things.
What relies on columns but isn't a house, and asks for help but can't speak itself?
I open wide and tight I shut, Sharp am I and paper-cut fingers too, so do take care, I'm good and bad, so best beware.
My teeth are sharp, my back is straight, to cut things up it is my fate.
If lightning strikes an orchestra who is the one most likely to get hit?