Answer:
I'm full of holes, yet I'm full of water.
Searing 'cross the pitchΒ-black skies, I scream in celebration, Yet moments later, my outburst through, I am naught but imagination.
What has two spines and a lot of ribs, and carries much but never moves?
You heart it speak, for it has a hard tongue. But it cannot breathe, for it has not a lung.
I cannot be felt, seen or touched. Yet I can be found in everybody. My existence is always in debate. Yet I have my own style of music.
Why was the cook arrested?