Fill me up, get me hot, and you might make me sing. Get your head out of the gutter, this isn’t a fling. I’m a vessel of metal, not meant for the seas. I’ll be in the kitchen, now go fetch us some teas.

A single strike to my head is all it takes. I may save your life if lost, cold, and alone. Or I could destroy everything you own.

I can change voltage in a circuit or turn into more than meets the eye.

I’m the power behind human speech. The vessel through which some gadgets feed. If bundling or fastening is what you need, put me to work and I’ll succeed. What am I?

I have no voice, yet songs I bring, I dance in air but have no wings. In gentle touch, I sing so light, but storms may turn my song to fright. Hung up high, I bide my time What am I, with tunes sublime?