Answer:
In spring I look gay, Covered in a green array, The warmer it gets the more clothing I wear, As the cold grows, I throw away my clothes.
Lots of them make up a word, And lots of words are in them. It's easy when you think about it. A while ago we stamped and mailed them.
Men in skirts blow into these.
He died for people's entertainment.
What falls down but is never injured?
I am a room that has a roof but no walls. What am I?