I have a body but no soul, A single eye that sees no goal. I drink from silver cylinders to keep my sight, And only wake when you banish the light.

I sound like a pretty party-goer, and I can sound pretty in a tower.

You can have it You can eat it But you can't do both. This should be easy to figure out, like a piece Solve it and you'll have the icing on top

I spin my wheels or lose my drive, from too much strain, I can’t survive. In smoke or stress, my signs are stark, what am I that leaves its mark?

It is what utensils say when they swear.