Answer:
Hold the tail, while I fish for you.
A house full, a yard full, a chimney full, no one can get a spoonful.
This thing runs but cannot walk, sometimes sings but never talks. Lacks arms, has handsΝΎ lacks a head but has a face.
My voice is tender, my waist is slender and I'm often invited to play. Yet wherever I go, I must take my bow or else I have nothing to say.
What hangs others yet can unintentionally hang itself?
My days are numbered. What am I?