I can cradle what is broken, Or send a stone flying free. I can hang around your shoulder, Or swing you from a tree. One word, yet many ways to move. What am I?

I’m small and green, but sometimes black, press me hard and oil comes back.

Your nose runs like one when you have a a cold

A child may do me on the sidewalk. A record may do me in song. One is full of happy hops, the other leaves notes wrong.

I never move far from my spot, Yet I let the biggest doors swing a lot. I'm small and quiet, but hold it all tight. Without me, nothing opens right.