Riddle:
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?
Riddle: There is a plane flying over the border with half american and half canadian people. The plane crashes right over the boreder its exactly over the border.fjsljflskjef;osjdf;lkaje;fj