A house has a few but music has many. One lets you pass or even bars entry. Another differentiates between music and sound. When spelled differently the boat can be safely bound.

Carve me, trample me, tread me, roll me. I’ll still be here waiting for you to go home, see. I’m created for something, by something to flow free. My stones laid precisely in terms of your homes scene.

I dance on the wind, light as a dream, a gift from the sky or a bird’s soft gleam. I float and I drift, then rest on the ground, a silent traveler, without making a sound.

I have many teeth, but never bite. I turn around, but never roam.

I stand in legions, yet alone I grow, My children fall but never truly go. I've witnessed empires, outlived king and squire. I die standing up, yet feed the floor. What am I?