I hate this as it gets everywhere in your shoes Though with a towel above this in the sun you can snooze You can use this substance to make glass Just don’t let it get stuck all over your ass

I have a spine, but no bones to bear, Pages I hold, a story to share. With lines to fill, or sketches to make, What am I, for goodness sake?

Feathered yet I’ll never fly Upon me do the weary lie You’ll need me often in the night But rarely I’ll be used to fight!

My many teeth are dull and neat, yet through soft strands they’re quick to sweep. Or with great care I search each place, until what’s lost I finally trace.

What is blue and smells like red paint??