Answer:
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. What am I?
I am a protector. I sit on a bridge. One person can see right through me, while others wonder what I hide. What am I?
I move without wings Between silken string I leave as you find My substance behind.
Kings and queens may cling to power and the jester's got his call. But as you may discover the common one outranks them all. What am I?
You hear me speak, for I have a hard tongue. But I cannot breathe, for I have not a lung. What am I?
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?