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?

(In reply to taking a chance so don't laugh by Amy)

That makes sense. Can't be seen, felt, touched. Everybody's got one, nobody's sure if they really -have- one, and then there's the music. Congrats.

Posted by Daniel on 2005-01-26 19:23:42