This thing runs but cannot walk, sometimes sings but never talks. Lacks arms, has hands; lacks a head but has a face. What is it?

You can spend me, but you can't hold me tight, I'm always moving from morning to night. Too long for a moment, too short for a day. Not in the present, I fade as I stay.

My first part some slushy chow, My second what you're probably in right now. My whole rises quietly in forests dark, In many dishes my earthy flavors I impart.

Remove my third for a draw Flip me and I become a change to a file Unchanged I am what surfers look for

I’m what you do each morning before leaving your bed, A slice of the day as your routine gets fed, but catch me behind a boat, and I’ll rock and sway. Hold tight to your balance, or I’ll ruin your day