They used to think I'm underground, In company of all the dead. Yet now all know I can be found Lightyears away above your head. And if you want me in your house? Just go put on some Mickey Mouse!

I’m something you ask for before you enter, A polite little something so no one’s offended. You wait for a yes before carrying on.. But I’m orange, I’m sweet, and I grow on a farm. What am I?

In summer's sway, with a rind so thick, inside lies the sun's juicy trick. Green or yellow, sweet and round, a picnic's joy can be found.

a cozy warm worm helps me fend off the winter coil around me

I’m loudest when you stop speaking, break me once and I’m gone.