I hide a secret or a collar turned high, A uniform for shadows under a rainy sky. With a belt at my waist and buttons in a line, I’m the classic armor for a detective’s design.

I can be a skeleton but no being wears me Without the window there is nothing to see I am the part that pictures wear too And chances are I hold a portrait of you

I travel far without a sound, Through air or space I move around. I tell you when to stop or go, or share a message you should know.

Salt and pepper, white or red, many other shades can crown this head. Sprouting from a human face, despite the wish to keep it chaste.