Every living being needs it, yet it is often said to be for the dead Every living being experiences it, yet none are conscious for it Many living beings avoid it despite desiring it

I sleep in the day, My skin looks like leather, I hit balls far away, My wings don't have feathers.

The ebb and flow controlled by the moon, or substance to clean your pantaloons

Like skin for a tree, a mailman may fear me.

Borderless curtain with a thunderous hush, when torrent’s abundance met gravity’s crush.