Answer:
I go around in circles, but always straight ahead. Never complain, no matter where I am led.
Looks like water, but it's heat. Sits on sand, lays on concrete. A play on the eyes, but it's all lies.
When the horse strokes the cat, the wood begins to sing.
In Paris but not in France, the thinnest of its siblings.
It is the electronic version of junk mail or a salty meat in a can.
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?