Riddle

My mouth's a wallet
and my teeth coins.
My eyes are bulbs
tucked up in bed.
My head's a pumpkin
with a hand inside
holding a tablespoon.
My gut's a grate
full of melted fruit,
melted typewriters.
I sing like shoelaces,
I dance like breeches,
a bow tied tight
beneath my chin.
At night I let the cat
climb out my mouth
and in the day
I let him climb back in.
My star is blue,
my cockerel crowned.
My bowels go round
and round and round.
My hands are getting thin.
Who am I?