Small in size but built to fly, I seek a targets watchful eye. Thrown by hand with careful art, I aim to find the very heart.

I look like snow, but my colors are wrong; I fall from the air after fire burns strong. I darken the sky, and can choke the air, Waiting for the wind to carry me elsewhere.

A common tool for gardeners and fire fighters. I look like a snake spitting water.

The Texas instrument that's lacking keys. No adding, multipliers, or parentheses. Subtract and divide, those are the choices. And there may be some unpleasant noises.

Bono and The Edge walk into a bar. The bartender says OH NO, NOT...