Arr, matey! Up above where the seagulls ne'er fly, a grandy ship's top be this hidden sky. Keeps the rain at bay, but not the dreams of a sailor's eye.

Not sure why they thought this formed the moon, Unless it can’t digest, and the tides coming soon.

I'm round with nothing inside I come in gold or plain you start your mornings with me and I'm better with a spread

Superstitious? This riddle shouldn’t get you stuck Just be judicious And don't walk beneath this or you’ll have bad luck

You earn me slow, then spend me fast, you try your best to make me last. I buy you things both big and small, yet wages never seem enough at all.