Almost all I do is talk and sing. People love me and take me with them everywhere. I reach people all around the world and tell them what they want. They rely on me for everything and I can even save their life and yet I don't have a mouth. What am I?
My timpani play a rhythmic song, With hammer on anvil I play along. Down my canal no ship sets course, And I have a stirrup that fits no horse. What am I?
I am a fruit. Remove my first letter, it's a crime. Remove my first and last letter, it's a kind of music. What do you think am I?
