Answer:
I am never quite what I appear to be. Straight-forward I seem, but it's only skin deep. For mystery most often lies beneath my simple speech. Sharpen your wits, open your eyes, look beyond my exteriors, read me backwards, forwards, upside down. Think and answer the question...
At the sound of me, one may dream or stamp their feet, At the sound of me, one may laugh or sometimes weep.
I am the heart that does not beat. If cut, I bleed without blood. I can fly, but have no wings. I can float, but have no fins. I can sing, but have no mouth.
There are several different kinds, but the one you pick doesn't do its job. What is it?
What is often returned but is never borrowed?
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?