I appear when you are lost for words, I appear when you don’t know who you are or what you are doing. I appear when your mind wanders somewhere unknown, But I disappear when the mind comes back. Or, you may associate me with music, with successive parts building up a tune. Who am I?

The radio star was my mother. Two teenage slackers are my children. The man on the moon is my image.

When not hidden in a box, I am seated in a hole. I only move when you do, and I'm rarely found alone.

A guardian of secrets, Perhaps made of steel, Turns with a click, And treasures are revealed.

I’m made to travel in pairs, yet I’m famous for disappearing alone. I know your shape better than your shoes do. I’m first to meet the cold, last to leave the day. What am I?