Music Room Riddles for Tuneful Thinkers

I have 88 teeth but never bite, I fill rooms with sound day and night. What am I?

I keep the beat without a word, tick-tock, steady, always heard. What am I?

I'm a stick that waves but never swims, guiding songs from starts to hymns. What am I?

I travel in cases to stay out of tune, hold me the wrong way and I'll croon. What am I?

I'm a circle of friends that never ends, counting sharps and flats with bends. What am I?

I'm brass and bright with valves to press, I lead the parade with joyful zest. What am I?

I'm skin stretched tight across a frame, I thunder and boom in rhythm's game. What am I?

I'm lines and spaces stacked in rows, notes perch on me like feathered crows. What am I?

I'm the hush between each sound, a quiet beat where rests are found. What am I?

I'm a wooden box with silver wings, plucked or strummed I make heartstrings sing. What am I?

I'm a choir's secret for blending just right, vowels and diction polished bright. What am I?

I'm a page of notes, louds, and slows, telling musicians how the music flows. What am I?

I'm a marching beat that makes feet glide, calling cadets to step in stride. What am I?

I'm a story told with harmonies tall, instruments speak and curtains fall. What am I?

I'm the cheer when practice ends, applause from teachers, family, friends. What am I?