I boasted great skill and dared a goddess to a weave. My skill shamed the gods, but my hubris brought blight. For now I’m condemned to spin, not cloth but thread, With many legs where once I tread, thus I weave my penance instead.

Vapor appear in golden dew, In simple meal I readily grew, In ancient times the wilds provide, But feed the fire and swiftly died

I have a head, but I do not have a brain. I am often seen in cornfields.

I'm a force that's invisible, yet I can be strong, I hold you to the ground, all day long. Without me, you'd float away, In the universe, I'm here to stay.

Arr, a tune that stirs the breeze, where salty tales meet the seas. Echoes from the sailor's chest, a hearty song that ne'er lets ye rest!