Babies and grown men alike drink from me. I have a long neck and hold everything from beer to milk to faires if you're Link.

You baked a dozen, but one mysteriously disappears. Then another, and another. Weird how that happens.

Robin held the title, so did Little Red; It covers your engine, or sits on your head. Add neighbor in front and you've found where you live, Add child to the start and it's youth you can't relive.

Maybe you have a bunch of loose papers, Or wild, long untamed hair. You may carry some cash in mixed banknotes Or have opened a fresh bag of bread. What holds us all together?

I have thousands of open doors, yet I hold captives tight, I dance within the ocean's depths without a beam of light. I am woven out of simple strands, invisible to prey, And swallow up a silver swarm before I'm pulled away.