I spin round and round on a conveyor belt and you wait anxiously for me. It's called Baggage Claim but I am not baggage. What am I?

Does the rabbit go around the hole, and then through the loop? Or is it through the loop, and then...ah poop. I forgot how to tie these, essential to keep my feet in these Nike's.

I’m tall and green and smell so fine, At Christmas time you make me shine. With needles sharp instead of leaves, What kind of tree am I, do you believe?

A symphony of souls where strings and beats guide emotions, a gathering of echoes that paints silence with sound.

The sleeve that shrouds the hoard, Preferred to be ignored. A mist of sting or essence spent, I'm put out to pasture when my armor relents.