I'm metal. I flip or spin but not turn. I make machines work.

I spin without walking, sing without a mouth. I keep what you said, and also what you played. I can be broken, beaten, or set straight, stored on shelves or chased in a race.

I’m a tiny cut, a little groove, On belts, trees, or maybe your shoe. I help things fit or show your score What am I that’s never a bore?

I'm wild in the kings court but I'm never in your hand. There's always two of me on deck.

I’m something you can copy perfectly, yet the original never disappears. I get smaller when you compress me, but smarter when you train me. I live in layers, travel in packets, and die when corrupted. People argue whether I should be free.