Answer:
I march before armies, a thousand salute me. My fall can bring victory, but no one would shoot me. The wind is my lover, one-legged am I. Name me and see me at home in the sky.
It is the electronic version of junk mail or a salty meat in a can.
I'm the source of all emotion, but I'm caged in a white prison.
What doesn't get any wetter, no matter how much rain falls on it?
The more of them you take, the more you leave behind. What are they?
I can only be played on a windy day