I sit above the mouth you feed, and help detect what you may need. A rose, a fire, a fresh-baked treat, I sense them all before you eat.

Filled with breath, I grow with ease, pulled by hands or carried by breeze. At parties I gather in colorful crowds, yet one sharp touch can make me loud. Tied with a knot so I do not flee, the higher I drift, the smaller I seem to be.

I’m born at the end of every trade, A paper trail that merchants made. I list the things you chose to buy, With numbers, totals, low and high.

Come on third I will there to great thee, Of course after gold and silver shine above me.

What's the difference between a hippo and a Zippo? One is really heavy, and the other is...