Linen-bound in sacred rite, I rest where jackals guard the night. Organs jarred, my name intoned, disturb me and a curse may be sown.

I can change your view, but I cannot change your mind. People use me to improve their outlook.

I could be in outer space, or your living room carpet could be my place. I'm known for being filled with dust, in my fatality you can trust.

I can make commandments, but I cannot speak. People use me to cure themselves also.

I sing but have no mouth, I listen to the wind but have no ears long and metal made of me, you may see me hang from a tree