Answer:
When it is alive we sing, when it is dead we clap our hands. What is it?
The sun bakes them, the hand breaks them, the foot treads on them, and the mouth tastes them.
What is it something that you always have but you always leave behind?
My first master has four legs, my second master has two. My first I serve in life, my second I serve in death. Tough I am, yet soft beside. Against ladies cheeks I often reside.
What relies on columns but isn't a house, and asks for help but can't speak itself?
I appear in the morning. But am always there. You can never see me. Though I am everywhere. By night I am gone, though I sometimes never was. Nothing can defeat me. But I am easily gone.