Anyway I paddle in the water bound , whichever chosenway , I keep the same sound

Wears a coat of white and gray, And soars above the ocean spray. Will steal your fries right off the sand, With noisy cries along the strand.

Kidney, Pinto, String and Soy are all types of this.

I’m picked from a tree and cured in brine, or pressed into oil, golden and fine.

Spun and played by me and also played by I spin no wool, yet threads I weave, To catch a tale you'll soon believe. A line that's thrown across the blue, Or spun late night around a crew.my feline friend beside thee.