Answer:
You get many of me, but never enough. After the last one, your life soon will snuff. You may have one of me but one day a year, When the last one is gone, your life disappears.
I fly through the air on small feathered wings, seeking out life and destroying all things.
I'm white, I'm round, but not always around. Sometimes you see me, sometimes you don't.
Long and slinky like a trout, never sings till it's guts come out.
What building has the most stories?
What an fill a room but takes up no space?