Answer:
Squeeze me and I cry tears as red as flesh, but my heart is made of stone. What am I?
Deep, deep, do they go. Spreading out as they go. Never needing any air. They are sometimes as fine as hair.
Everyone has me except for a few. You may not be able to identify me but I can always identify you. What am I?
So cold damp and dark I am. To stay you would refrain yet those who occupy me do never complain.
Poor people have it. Rich people need it. If you eat it you die. What is it?
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?